A Chance You Only Get Once
by Grimm Sister
Summary: Some live and die in a brilliant flash of light. Others, seeing how quickly they fade into darkness, fear even to light their candle. But fireworks light up the whole sky while they last. The Marauders shown like beacons of light during the reign of terro
1. The Turkey Bowl

Disclaimer: Does anyone really think that I own Harry Potter? Really? Okay, well YOU go check yourself into a mental institution. The rest of you, read on!

* * *

**A Chance You Only Get Once**  
by Grimm Sister

**Chapter One  
The Turkey Bowl**

The snow was swirling about as if a child somewhere had just shaken the snowglobe that Hogwarts castle and grounds was nestled inside. The Forbidden Forest looked misleadingly sweet with its dark green trees full of pure white snow. Though the snow was not thick enough to cover footprints, only one set marred the white expanse. They led from a figure that from any of the castle windows appeared like a dark spot on the grounds.

Not that many were in the castle to look out the window. Only a dozen or so had stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas break, and everyone but this man was far too busy enjoying a cheery Christmas Eve by the fire to notice the man trekking out across the snow.

He strode purposefully forward, not worrying about being followed as he would have once. He also didn't worry about the time. He had plenty of it, because he planned to visit the memorial before heading to the Womping Willow. The Willow was no place to spend Christmas, but there were memories there. Some of them were even pleasant, and if he couldn't have Christmas with all of his friends, Remus Lupin figured that he might as well celebrate Christmas with their ghosts. If he hadn't taken the potion yesterday, he might even have the chance to see her again.

No matter. He was going to see her now. He walked straight into the forest, not worrying that he left a direct trail to the place. He and Mundungus were the only ones who remembered it now, except perhaps Snape. They were the only ones left to mourn Marissa.

Then he had reached the clearing and was looking at the snow-woman again. How strange it would look to a first year that stumbled upon it in may, a snow-woman standing on the green summer grass. But then, the place was too well protected for that. Lily's handiwork, he remembered, transfiguring the place into an Unplottable location, even on the great Marauder's Map.

But it had been Sirius who remembered the Living Memory Encantation, the kind of spell Marissa herself would have thought up. Sirius. How could he have been so wrong about him? Remus shook himself. He had not come here to think of Sirius, or even Lily and James and Peter.

Remus gazed up at the snow-woman who had Marissa's gentle face, eyes closed in an expression of inner peace. Her head was thrown back into the wind, hair streaming behind it, her arms spread wide to accept the breeze, all in the crisp and sparkling white of newfallen snow. Two other details were different from the memory that had created it. Wings spread back behind her, almost blending with her hair, and her clothes were the garb of angels rather than Hogwarts students. However, a tiny silver prefect's badge stood out on her chest and a scarlet and gold scarf streamed back from one of her hands. Remus smiled slightly although it was sorrow that stole at his heart.

Remus walked slowly up to her and laid a small branch of evergreen at her feet. It immediately started to grow until it formed a wreath around her. Remus stood there for a long moment, as transfixed by her face as he had been when he saw her standing there like this. In their sixth year. But time with Marissa was best measured from one Christmas to the next.

This was Remus's most powerful memory of her, gathering strength and peace from the wind, looking so small and fragile that any moment it would lift her up and blow her away, yet also strong at the same time. There was courage and beauty, and something else on her face as well. Acceptance. An acceptance that he had often wondered about in the years since.

This was the first image that came into Remus's mind at the thought of her, not her screaming at a Quidditch match, or the look in her eyes when she knew his secret, or laughing and juggling in the Common Room, or even the last time that he saw her, stalking off Platform Nine and Three Quarters. All those memories came in quick succession afterward, but this image came first and lingered longest, and in all the long years that had come and gone, it was the only one that had not lost its sharpness.

What better proof was there of that than that the memorial was still as immaculate as the day that they had made it? Just as potent with her peace and their grief?

"Merry Christmas, Riss," he said quietly, hoping that the gentle wind would carry his words to wherever it was that she had gone.

Remus had a few friends that he had made since he lost, one by one and all at once, the friends that changed his life, that _gave_ him a life. All of them had at one time or another asked him why he insisted on living such a lonely life. They thought that he felt guilty for being alive when James, Lily, and Peter were dead. They supposed that he didn't want to inflict his lycanthropy on a wife and children. They thought him broken beyond repair by the losses of the friends who had made his life worthwhile when he was young.

The answer was simpler than that, and Marissa had said it herself long ago. True love is a chance you only get once.

* * *

"Hm. . ." said a small voice in her ear. Marissa nearly jumped out of her skin, she was already so on the edge her first night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Make that her first night in the wizarding world. "Now there's something I haven't seen before. . .wanted to be a magician before you knew you were a witch? Oh yes, you're a very unique spirit. Now, where is your resting place? Not your home, eh? Is that what you think? Well, I'll find you another one presently. A good mind, but a creative flair and relaxed manner that would be wasted in Ravenclaw. . .definitely not a Slytherin. . .just the demeanor for a Hufflepuff but, ah, what's this? That took courage, young lady. A great deal of courage indeed. That settles it, the place for your is GRYFFINDOR!"

The table on the far left burst into applause as Marissa lifted the hat up over her face. Just before she lifted it fully off, the small voice whispered, "Take care, Marissa Fletcher." Then the Hogwarts Sorting Hat had had its final say.

Marissa bounched lightly forward and took a seat next to Lily Evans who had just been sorted into Gryffindor. Although Gryffindor received four boys that year, it was only those two lionesses who were left to ban together.

And what bound them closest was not similiar disposition, for they were very different, or even necessity. It wasn't even being two of only three Muggle-born girls in their year. It was Petunia and Mundungus. It wasn't hard to get past their difference when they realized that they shared the thing they held closest to their hearts: the love and virtual worship of a younger sibling. It wasn't the Hogwarts Sorting Hat or the close tower room that brought them together in the end, it was Petunia and Mundungus, each of whom worshipped the ground that Lily and Marissa walked on. And Hogwarts was the shrine of those too religions. But Petunia and Mundungus were not the only ones destined to love the two lionesses of the Gryffindor.

** Five and a Half Years Later **

Her house was not what he had expected, from his blindly wizard point of view. It was unlike any other house Peter Pettigrew had ever seen, excluding the houses all along the same street. It seemed a misnomer - Was that the right word? Peter never knew - for Marissa Fletcher's house not to stand out from its neighbors'. It was not nearly so large as the Lupin Castle but it was far larger than the Black Mansion, which was still saying something. It was also surprisingly quite unlike James's home.

It was elegant, but falselly so. How the almost painfully earnest girl could stand to live in a house with artificial charm bewildered Peter. How could she have learned to be so _real_ growing up in a place full of _cement_ imitations of marble pillars. . .where gargoyle statues had been softened to the point that they were custsy, although Muggles probably thought them quite formidable? And everything was so _new._ Where would she have learned to love history, even taught by Binns, the way she did? How had she acquired whatever it was that made even his lessons suddenly seem fascinating? Peter could hardly believe she managed to stay awake to hear it in the first place, but when she retold it, even the dullest historical event suddenly felt like they were hearing an epic adventure. She was a story-teller, that was how. But she certainly wouldn't have learned any of it here, where they built false history for atmosphere - the look was what _Muggles_ wanted, not the story behind it.

Peter had time to ponder all this, as well as worry he hadn't gotten the whole knocker thing right, while he waited for Marissa Fletcher to open the door. Truth be told, she almost startled him when she swung the door abruptly open without so much a glow of the fireplace to annouce that she was approaching.

Marissa's crystal blue eyes were dancing as if she had just pulled herself together after laughing. Her grin was broad, her cheeks a bit flushed, and she was pulling a lock of her golden hair back behind her ear. The very sight of her took his breath away and made his heart catch in his chest.

That he expected from Marissa Fletcher. What he hadn't expected, and there was always something with that girl, was for her to be holding a frozen turkey in her hands. She was surprised too, surprised to see him there. "Hello, Peter," and it was clear from her voice that she had been laughing just a moment before. He loved that sound in her voice but hated that it was James and Sirius who usually caused it. "Not to be rude," Peter couldn't imagine it of her, "But to what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

Peter smiled, but raised an eyebrow at her odd phrase. "Yes, I know, the lingo comes with the house," she laughed, opening the door wide to admit him. "So what brings you to my humble home?" Now, Peter thought, he had encountered a misnomer. The place looked even bigger from the inside. His eyes travelled around the foyer growing ever wider. Marble rose up from the floor where it was so polished and set that he was afraid to trod on it, and the least expensive surface was made of fine mahogany. Unlike the imitation style of the house itself, every piece of furniture he laid eyes on was a pricey antique. What was more, even Peter could tell that whoever decorated it had taste. What he didn't know was that it was taste nine years out of style, but then he wouldn't have appreciated the significance if he had.

"Your holiday really all that bad, Peter?" Marissa asked, when his eyes finally came down from the mural on the ceiling and met hers. A slight shock went through him, and he felt himself nodding before he knew what was happening. That was what he loved about Marissa Fletcher. She understood people, even Slytherins, instantly. She knew secrets, and she didn't judge for them. You rarely had to tell her anything, she just understood. James could keep his Lily, gorgeous, brilliant, stunning Lily. Peter found pretty, clever, kind, understanding Marissa infinitely preferable. Lily was amazing, nearly everyone felt dwarfed by her shadow, making her just the woman for James, but Peter loved Marissa for standing beside her and never once feeling too small. Everyone may admire Lily, it was nearly impossible not to, but everyone loved Marissa. She would go among first years, drying tears, guiding them in the shifting halls of Hogwarts, pulling Sickles out of their ears to cheer them up when they were homesick or being teased. She was the only Gryffindor to never get in a fight with a Slytherin, not with words or wands. She turned aside all conflict, she laughed at all adversity directed at her and her compassion drowned any directed at others. Lily may be the goddess of Hogwarts, but Marissa was its angel, and she had touched far more lives.

And now the angel was looking at Peter with a smile on her face, but a sad, sweet smile meant to provide what she surely thought a meager comfort. But it meant far more to Peter Pettigrew than she would ever understand, for though she saw through him with ease, she never realized that she was anything special herself. Wait a moment, saw everything? Peter suddenly felt a sinking of fear. What if she saw how he loved her? How could she miss how he fell over himself to get near her? What if she saw and. . .of course she would be kind about it, but it would still be awful! No, she must never see. But what if she already had?

"Peter?" Marissa said uncertainly, looking at him with concern. "Are you all right? Do you need to talk or - "

"Rissa!" Mundungus's young voice shouted from another room. "It's your turn!"

Peter's eyes were drawn back to the frozen turkey in Marissa's hand, and he wondered anew what its purpose was. The laughing smile returned to Rissa's, his Rissa's, face as she looked in the direction of her brother's voice. "What?" Peter asked, feeling confused. Was this a Muggle thing?

"I'll show you if you're sure you don't need to talk," Marissa said, looking him in the eyes, searching for the answer before he could give it.

"No, not now anyway, I just wanted to be here," Peter said, holding back that he would rather be here than anywhere and that he couldn't have taken another moment in his own house. Marissa seemed to guess the latter, but she did not comment on it, per his wishes.

"Well then come on, before Gus has a cow in there!" Marissa laughed. Peter glanced confusedly at the turkey in her hand. Where they playing some animal game? Wasn't Mundungus nine? A little old for that? Marissa noticed his glance and burst out laughing. She took his hand in her free one and pulled him forward. "Come on, you!" She was still chuckling, at what he wasn't sure, when they reached the room.

Gus ran right up to them. "Riss! I've been waiting for forty-five mintues!" he demanded angrily.

Marissa just laughed, releasing Peter's hand casually. She had never meant anything by it. "Amazing how time flies, eh Peter?" she smirked to him about her brother's exaggeration.

He may be nine, but he was as excited as a six year old in the presence of his sister. "Come on Riss! YOUR TURN!"

"All right, all right!" Marissa laughed, holding up her free hand in surrender. "Have the bottles reset themselves?"

"Um, Marissa, what is all this?" Peter asked, glancing around at the mess of objects around him.

"This," Marissa said as if she were announcing at a Quidditch Match, "Is the Grand Finals of Turkey Bowling!"

"And I'm winning!" Mundungus piped in victoriously, carrying a large frozen turkey of his own.

"Not for long!" Marissa challenged, going to the beginning of what looking like a long trail of slippery carpet. "Let's show him how it's done, eh Gus?" she said with a wink. Then she pulled the turkey back and sent it barelling down the lane, slipping and sliding, to strike the collection of milk bottles at the end of it.

Peter was surprised that they didn't shatter. "What is all this?" he asked.

"Oh, I risked a little magic when I went up to Diagon Alley yesterday," Marissa said, a mischievious glint in her eye. "I put an unbreakable charm on the milk jugs and poured an extra-slippery potion onto this old piece of cloth this morning after taping it to the floor."

"But what - why?" Peter asked, none of that making sense to him.

Marissa shook her head, muttering, "Purebloods." Then she smiled, "It's a sport, called bowling. You use a ball to knock over some pins, but we're short an alley and all the equipment so. . .we're making do!"

"This is even better!" Mundungus said excitedly, rushing to reset the bottles so that he could have his turn. "I'll show you how it's done!" Peter wondered if Mundungus ever calmed down while he was around his sister.

In the meantime, Mundungus was hurling his own frozen turkey down the slippery lane, sucessfully knocking over every single jug. "YEEEEES!" he shouted, jumping up in the air so high Peter almost thought he was taking off on a broom.

What surprised him was Marissa's reaction. She let out a whoop of excitement and cried, "You got a strike!" She ran over and hugged him, lifting him slightly before setting him down again. They both started jumping up and down, pumping the air with their fists like a bizarre war dance. It was at this point that Peter was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable in the Fletcher house. Marissa noticed this after a moment. She was still beaming when she turned to him, "Why don't you try it, Peter?" she asked, moving down the lane and starting to reset the bottles.

A moment later she returned, holding the frozen turkey. "What do I do with it?" Peter said, taking it uncertainly.

"You get it straight back to the freezer if that is my GOOD TURKEY, MARISSA JANE FLETCHER!" a woman said, coming in from another door. She had on a starched apron with a candy cane pattern that was slightly dulled in places by a sprinkling of flour. She had her hands on her hips and was looking very stern, but not in the way that Professor McGonagall did. She looked more matronly.

"I don't have a death wish, Mavi!" Marissa replied with a laugh. "Your Christmas turkey is safe and sound," she assured her.

"All right then," she said, eyeing her shrewdly but smilingly. "Whatever it is you're doing, just clean it up when you're done," she sighed a long-suffering sigh, shaking her head. In the process, her eyes fell on Peter. "Marissa Jane Fletcher!" she shouted, again flaring up like an indignant matron, "Why didn't you tell me that we have company?"

"This is Peter Pettigrew, Mavi," Marissa said. "He's a friend from school. He just dropped in."

"Well, Master Pettigrew, you'll be wanting to stay to supper no doubt?"

"Oh you really should," Marissa replied instantly. "Mavi's cooking is second to none, not even the Hogwarts feasts are so delicious," she insisted.

"Now don't think you'll be buttering me up with all that, Miss Marissa, I know you're planning to stick me in the oven and fry me up good one of these days every time you start in with that," she replied, smiling nevertheless, wiping her hands on her apron. "Make sure you set Master Pettigrew's place at the table, Dung," she added to Mundungus as she turned and swept out of the room.

"Nice to meet you Mrs Flectcher!" Peter yelled after her awkwardly.

"Mavi's not our mother," Mundungus replied as if this should have been instantly apparent. "She's our cook."

"Ah, does Marissa Jane Fletcher have a Muggle version of a house elf?" Peter asked, turning to her with a rare mischievious glint in his eye.

"No I most certainly do not!" Marissa replied, her eyes flashing. Peter was suddenly nervous. He had never seen Marissa angry before, but she looked close to it now. "We pay Mavi, we respect her, we treat her like a person, like part of the family - "

"That just happens to wait on you?" Peter challenged, not quite ready to be abashed.

"For which she is paid and she is in no way forced to do! It's her job not her life!" Marissa shot back, growing angrier and angrier.

Peter decided that this was a good time to back down. "So. . .so should I just throw it down there or what?" he said, nodding to the frozen turkey in his hands.

Marissa sighed, the fight going out of her instantly, no resentment remained. Yet another reason to love her. A few minutes later, the three of them were laughing uproariously as Peter tried, yet again, to score a strike. "I'm never going to get this!" he cried in frustration as his turkey slid too far to the right, only knocking down four of the ten jugs.

"Marissa, can I go back to Hogwarts with you?" Gus asked suddenly, turning to his sister.

Marissa froze, looking shocked. She turned to face him very slowly. "Um, Gus, I don't know if. . .You know you'll get to come when you're eleven. . ." she struggled to find something to say.

"But Lily's sister never got to go!" Mundungus pointed out. "What if I'm like her? What if I can't go? Can I please come now? Just for a visit? In case I never see it?"

Marissa had her mouth open, searching for words to answer his question when the storm broke out.

"WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON HERE?" a tall man in his late forties came storming into the room, a vein already popping in his forehead just at the sight of them.

Marissa and Mundungus both jumped and spun around, looking stricken. "N-nothing, Daddy," Marissa stuttered out, her voice betraying her. Peter stared. He had never seen Marissa Fletcher be afraid of anything, even nervous.

"Don't you stand there in the clothes I put on your ungrateful back and lie to me, Marissa Fletcher," Mr Fletcher snapped, taking a step toward her menacingly.

"I'm not lying, Daddy, we're going to clean it up," Marissa insisted, her voice shaking. She appeared to be struggling to stand her ground. The girl who out-stared Slytherins when they were throwing terrible diatribes at her was almost visibly shaking in the face of her father's fury. "We were just - just having some fun. . .playing. . ."

_"Playing?"_ Mr Fletcher demanded, by no means seeming pacified. "You missed Mundungus growing up and you're forcing him to relive it for _you?_" he shouted at her. Marissa looked like she was going to cry, trying to protest but nothing was coming out. "You can't dress him up like a little puppet! You made your choice! You walked out on this family, and you can't have that back whenever it pleases you!"

"She didn't walk out!" Peter shot back, anger coursing through him, taking a step toward the man who was almost a foot taller than him.

"And bringing your little freak boys into my house!" Mr Fletcher roared, his eyes bugging out as he spotted Peter. "I have very few rules for how you conduct yourself at that school, Marissa Jane - "

He had gone too far in everyone's opinion. "Jerome Fletcher!" Mavi called, coming in from the kitchen, looking stern. "How dare you!"

"I am your employer and you have stepped outside of your authority," Mr Fletcher said to her, not to be pacified. Mavi shut her mouth but stood there looking defiant. Mr Fletcher raised his eyebrows at her pointedly and she huffily spun on her heel and returned to the kitchen.

"Peter's just my friend, Daddy," Marissa said, sounding like she was pleading with him, her voice tight to repress her sobs. "He came by because it's Christmas and he's - "

"Taking in wounded puppies again, Marissa?" Mr Fletcher demanded, shouting over her and making her jump again. "Bringing them in to shit in my house. Truth be told I don't really expect any better from you, off at that freak school most of the year, what would you know of how things are at home? What do you care about us here? But you, Dungus, you should know better you little - "

The moment that he turned on Mundungus, Marissa moved in front on him, pushing him behind her as if to protect him from his father's words. He didn't peak out from behind his sister as his father continued to rail at them. Marissa suddenly looked much stronger, determined. She could defend Mundungus even if she couldn't stand up to him for herself.

"Oh, isn't that sweet," he said sarcastically, taking a step towards them. Marissa, this time, stood her ground. "But you aren't here to protect him all the time, Marissa. You're off at that freak place, and what do you care about Dungus then? I'll tell you what, nothing. And that's all you are to this family, nothing. I don't know why you even bother coming home on holidays. You abandoned us. And now Dungus is all mine. So don't you go through this charade of acting like you care about him when it's convenient to you then leave us like you always do."

With that he strode from the room. Marissa closed her eyes and a tear leaked out of one of them and slid quickly down her cheek. Peter stared at it in horror. He had come to her because he needed to have a happy moment, a friendly face, even a glimpse of what a familiy should be. But Marissa Fletcher came from a broken home too.

"Yes," she said softly. For a second Peter wondered if he had said that aloud. Then he realized that Mundungus had poked his head out from around her and was looking up at her expectantly. "Yes, you can come to Hogwarts with me," she said even more softly. She opened her eyes to see excitement growing on Mundungus's face.

"Riss, are you sure about this?" Peter asked, the words bursting from him before he could stop them. "I mean, how are you going to pull this off? And what if they call it kidnapping or something? So much could go wrong - "

"If I have to drop out of school and get a job he's not spending one more day alone in this house with that man!" Marissa cried, drowning him out.

Peter was staring at her in awe. "Will you tell on me, Peter?" she said with a small smile, her first since her father's entrance.

"Would you really do that?" Peter asked her, staring at her with new feeling welling up in him. Even greater admiration than he thought it was possible to feel. "Give up on all your dreams for your little brother?"

"I'd fight off a pack of Death Eaters," Marissa said, turning to look him in the eye. "Loyalty, that's what really matters in the end. It's the difference between a monster and just an enemy. The highest virtue and the hardest thing to get back if you've lost it."

Peter met her eyes steadily, knowing it would never forget her words. "I wish someone felt like that about me," he said in a very small voice.

To his great surprise, Marissa smiled, "You're smart, Wormtail, smarter than any of those boys or your parents give you credit for. Surely you don't believe that no one loves you. You must never believe that, Wormtail." She was looking him in eye. Peter felt raised a few notches, as if he suddenly had more worth, at least in her eyes.

Then he realized something. She had never called him "Wormtail" before. In fact, she never called any of the Marauders by their chosen nicknames. She barely called anyone by a nickname, derogatory or otherwise. Gus and Lily (or rather Lils) were just about the extent. What did this mean?

Whatever it did, Peter knew that he would never forget it.

If Marissa realized what a significant moment it was for him, she smiled just as if she had pointed out that the sky was blue. She walked over to him. "Thank you for defending me," she said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek in gratitude.

He wasn't even aware of doing it, but he turned his head so that she met his lips instead. For half a second, Peter was in heaven. Then it was over.

She cleared her throat softly and took a step away pointedly. She appeared to be chewing on her lip, trying to think of a way to say the fatal words. Peter didn't care which one she chose, it meant the same thing to him. Disappointment sank deep into him.

"You're a good friend, Peter, but I didn't lie to my father a moment ago," she said softly.

"Yeah, I got that," Peter said stiffly. "I think I'd better go now." He dropped the turkey and hurried out toward the foyer again.

"Peter!" Marissa called after him, appearing in the doorway just as he opened the front door again. "I wasn't lying about Mavi's cooking either. . .you should stay. . ."

Peter gave a half-hearted smile. "Merry Christmas, Marissa. See you and Dung on the Hogwarts Express."

©KatyMulvaney12-29-2003

Posted: 10/29/2004


	2. Fletchers Don't Blend In

**Disclaimer:** Is anyone really stupid enough to think that I own Harry Potter? Well, no, I don't. Honestly, on this site you should get the drill by now. By the way, I don't really own almost the entire world and all the characters. About all I do own is Lizzie Walker and Marissa Fletcher. And if you use them then I will **not** be suing you. That is one of my pet peeves: YOU CANNOT SUE UNLESS YOU HAVE BEEN INJURED! And I will most certainly not suffer emotional or finacial loss, what money am I getting on this site in the first place? Now that all ignoramuses have been satisfied. . . 

**Full Summary:** Marissa Fletcher is the President of the James Potter Fan Club, but not for the reason that everyone thinks, except perhaps Remus Lupin. Whether she's hiding her little brother in the Astronomy Tower or painting the clouds in a literal sense or planting inside jokes in the Christmas Wizard Crackers, Marissa's around to stir up trouble, and hopefully fix up James and Lily. But then, what else would you expect from Mundungus Fletcher's older sister but a heart of gold and the soul of a Marauder? But what if Hogwarts' resident little ray of sunshine has a dark cloud on the horizon? 

**Chapter Two  
Fletchers Don't Blend In**

* * *

_Such pain,_ whispered the voice in his ear. _Something I see more and more often in such young minds these days. But the loss has affected you more than any other head that I have sat upon in a century. With the death of your mother and neglect of your father, your sister was all that you had. How well I remember her, remarkable child that she was. . .One of only two young women worthy of Gryffindor in her year. Not a thought in her head that wasn't optimistic and cheerful, even her worries were nonchalant and her anxiety uplifting. But she had one very serious concern I remember all too well. . ._

"Don't talk about Marissa." 

_It was you dear boy. Her very much beloved younger brother._

"I said don't talk about Marissa." 

_You'll have to learn to talk about her, young one. She is a part of you. Oh yes, she has affected you more than any other person ever will. And not just by her death, mostly by her life. She will always be a part of you._

"Leave her out of this. Just sort me into a damn house and shut bloody well up." 

_You resent this place, this castle, this world, for taking her. You would not come here if you had any other choice._

"Does any of this have a point you pompous, overgrown - " 

_She loved it, this world, as she loved everything and everyone. But you most of all._

"I said leave Marissa the hell out of this." 

_Poor boy, so hurt, so changed. She would barely know you now. I hope that Hogwarts teaches you more than spells. For that the best place is_ "HUFFLEPUFF!"

* * *

"Okay, Gus, you ready?" Marissa asked him, not sounding very ready herself. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Again she sounded far more nervous and unsure than Mundungus looked. He looked ecstatic, like his every wish was about to come true. "Okay, okay, let's go." Marissa put her hand on his shoulder, her grip very tight, and steered him quickly toward the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. 

A nervous laugh escaped her as Gus flinched at what would have been the impact. Instead they slid through into the new world like a knife through butter, as Mavi would say. Mavi. She would be positively frantic. 

"Welcome to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Gus," Marissa said with a smile, trying to put Mavi out of her mind. Some of her nervousness evaporated at the sight of all the familiar faces. Most of the people were turning to wave at friends. Some were even exchanging late Christmas presents. This was Marissa's gift to Gus. That, unfortunately, brought her back to how very mad this plan was. "You know," she tried again, knowing that she was grasping at feeble straws, "The very fact that you got through to the barrier proves that you're magical. . .you'll get to come to Hogwarts in less than two years anyway if you don't - " 

"Riss, you promised!" he interrupted her, prying his eyes off the scarlet steam engine to stare at her with puppy dog eyes in that heartbreaking way he had. 

Marissa pictured instead the look of anger and hate, on her father's face and heard his words to Mundungus louder than his plea. She nodded, "That I did." She thought of Mavi on the other side of the Platform, who would soon start looking around and realizing that Mundungus wasn't there, what horrible things that her father would say to her. . ."That I did," and this time she was reminding herself. She'd send a letter. What she would say she had no idea. She wished that she'd already planned that part out. 

"Okay, I've got to go check in at the Prefect's Compartment. A lot of first years haven't branched out to the other houses yet. There are some nice Ravenclaws over there. See if you can stick with them," Marissa told him, her hand on his shoulder. "The Hufflepuff's already know everyone and the Gryffindors and Slytherins are pretty closed groups this year." With this parting advice, she pushed him forward, praying that she was right that the Ravenclaws didn't have any classes with the Gryffindor first years. Even if they did, they were the only realistic choice. 

Now it was Mundungus's turn to look apprehensive. Marissa swung herself up onto the first step of the train with an easy she usually couldn't achieve with her heavy trunk in tow, but she had left it with Mundungus to make him more believable. The problem was that he wasn't tall for his age, and he looked hopelessly young and small for eleven. She turned back to watch him easily striking up a conversation with boys two years older than himself. And the brainy boys, no less, who would have little patience with his ignorance. She smiled, her little brother was a charmer, and certainly a Fletcher. 

After a moment, Marissa remembered that she would hardly want to draw attention to him and turned back into the train car. The Prefect's Compartment was, in Marissa's opinion, less welcoming than the rest of the train. It was, technically, more luxurious with nicer curtains and more comfortable seats, but it was large and the blasts from the very close engine had a habit of echoing loudly in the open space which seemed not to roll with the train as well as the smaller compartments. 

Luckily, she did not have to spend all day in this compartment. She only had to find Remus. It wasn't hard; as her Gryffindor counterpart, Remus Lupin sought her out the moment she entered and guided her to their assigned seats. "Happy Christmas, only a little late," Marissa said, hugging him before they sat down. "How was your holiday?" 

"I couldn't bear to dampen your ever bright spirits with that tale," Remus said, but more reflective than darkly. He often worried that she, who took such offense from his habitual foul moods, would eventually realize that they always occurred the week before the full moon, but she probably wouldn't think anything that dark could happen. 

"You and Peter should talk then, he won't tell me what made the holidays so gloomy for him either," Marissa said and Remus felt like a charge was being laid on him. "And did you send that owl for me?" 

"Yes," Remus replied, reaching slowly for a package from the bag at his feet. It was a box wrapped in bright Christmas paper and tied with a bow. A clever maneuver as it now looked as if they were doing nothing more mischievous than exchanging late Christmas gifts, if that could ever be believed of a Marauder or Marissa Fletcher. However, Marissa was impressed by his tactic. "James says to return it soon and wonders how in the world you knew about it in the first place, but is smart enough not to want to know what you want it for." 

Marissa laughed, "And here I don't have anything for you! Oh, Remus I feel like such a. . .oh wait! I think I do have something!" She jumped to her feet and hurried out of the compartment. Now all she had to do was find Mundungus. She noticed Igor Karkaroff's wary eyes on her as she hurried out of the compartment but tried not to look even more guilty. 

As a prefect, it wasn't hard to pretend that she was patrolling the halls, but she was beginning to get worried that the Hogwarts Express had realized that Gus had no business boarding and thrown him from the train back onto the platform, particularly when she saw the Ravenclaws she had shown him sitting in a compartment without him. She was almost frantic by the time she reached the last compartment and saw him sitting in it, calm as you please. He was regaling a group of third year Hufflepuffs (a clever move really considering it wouldn't seem odd for him to be shorter than them) with some old story he had picked up from somewhere and holding his audience captive. She said it once and she'd say it again, her little brother was good. 

"Excuse me," Marissa said, entering the compartment, "But is this yours?" she extended the gift to Mundungus who pretended to be surprised that she would address him. 

"Thank you, Miss Prefect, how did you get Mum's present?" Mundungus said, his eyes twinkling at her for a moment before going wide to perfect his sham. 

"Don't run off where your mother can't find you before the train even takes off, it won't kill you to say a proper goodbye, she was practically in tears when she asked me to deliver this to you, frantic that you'd go even a moment without it," Marissa scolded him mildly just as she would any other first year. She turned and left the compartment without another word. Mundungus smirked at her back just like any other first year would. 

On her way back, she found Lily Evans. "You holding up, Lils?" Marissa asked, stepping carefully into the compartment. Lily's head was slightly bowed and she was sitting in probably the only empty compartment in the train, staring moodily out the window. "She wouldn't even look at me," she said hollowly, gazing at the families waving last tearful goodbyes as the train jerked into motion. "Petunia used to - to love me, everything about me. . .just. . .and now. . ." 

"Sounds like a better scene that we had in September," Marissa said weakly. "She's not over it, then?" Petunia had turned eleven last year, but she hadn't received her letter this past summer. She had been screaming and crying when Lily came to board the train. Marissa, from the nightmares she'd overheard, knew that Petunia's agonized cries of "You promised! You promised I could come to Hogwarts! You liar!" still haunted her older sister. 

"She wouldn't look at me, she wouldn't talk to me, she wouldn't even come to see me off," Lily said sadly, pulling her head down into her hands. "She hates me." 

"Now, come on Lils, none of that talk," Marissa said, instantly sitting down next to her and putting her arm around her comfortingly. "Petunia doesn't hate you, not really." 

"She wouldn't even give me so much as a Happy Christmas!" Lily cried despairingly, looking near tears. 

"But I bet she'd pull you out of the way of a speeding car," Marissa said with a smile. Lily let out a strangled chuckle which sounded more like a sob than anything else, but Marissa took heart from it. "She's just taking it hard. It's a hard thing, to lose your sister and your childhood dreamworld all in one blow. You made Hogwarts her Neverland, and she was denied it. The bitter taste just hasn't faded from her mouth yet." 

"So it is my fault?" Lily asked in that same horribly hollow voice, peering up at Marissa, ready to believe it. 

"You will never hear me say that," Marissa said sternly. "No. With no ill will, no spite, no intention of hurting her, you filled her head with stories of a place beyond imagination, beyond yours and mine before we got here, but sometimes. . .things just don't work out the way we thought. Sometimes for reasons we can't see and sometimes for no reason at all," Marissa said all this quietly, kindly, her comforting gaze sincere. "Truth be told, it might be doing her a favor, taking it like this." 

"What?" Lily demanded. "Doing her a favor? Something that's turned my sweet baby sister so sour?" 

Marissa's faint smile turned away Lily's anger too effectively, Lily often decided at times like this. "The slow decay of reality can turn a person bitter just as easily as a sudden disappointment, and can be even more cruel," Marissa answered calmly, reflectively. "Think about it, every child has a dreamworld they grow up in, a place entirely of their own making, where anything is possible, even things you never dreamed, and the world is suddenly perfect once you enter it. Muggle-borns have it hard. We enter Hogwarts like it's our own personal dreamworld, but life's far from perfect in this new world. Even if it's full of the things of our wildest dreams, it can never have everything that we ever wanted. For the good and the bad, Hogwarts is a real place. Some people, many of the ones with the highest hopes, take that rather hard. The ones who lose their hopes all in one day get the most sympathy, but losing them one by one can turn a person bitter just as easily." 

"What about the third kind of person?" Lily asked, looking over at Marissa seriously. "Your kind? Who never let go of their dreams? Is there any hope for you?" 

Before Marissa could muster an answer, the door swung open, making them both jump. Remus Lupin poked his head in. "Marissa! There you are! Lizzie warns that you better get in there before she. . .makes you breakfast?" 

Lily merely looked confused, but Marissa's eyes lit up with understanding then amusement, "You mean toast, Remus?" Marissa said with a weak smile at a pureblood's take on Muggle phrases. "Can you cover for me, Remus?" he looked highly taken aback by her serious tone as well as her immobility. He had fully expected her to jump up and come running. "Tell Lizzie not to have a cow." 

Lily looked up at her, a faint twinkle back in her eye at Remus's reaction to yet another Mugglism. Marissa and Head Girl Lizzie Walker enjoyed playing this game with the other prefects, particularly Remus and the Head Boy Gideon Prewett. Remus, who had learned some of the rules of this game over his first term in office, seemed to be conscientiously memorizing the phrase so he could repeat it precisely. Then, without another comment, he slid the door shut behind him. 

Lily was the first to speak, the twinkle in her eye diminished but shining gratefully. "You really should go to the first Prefect Meeting of term, it's probably very important," she said, trying to sound as if she didn't really need Marissa there. Just whom she was trying to convince of this was unclear. 

"That's why you should have been the prefect instead of me," Marissa said casually, smiling. 

"And I thought I had it too when you mouthed off to McGonagall end of last year," Lily said, seizing onto the topic almost desperately. 

"I think that's when you lost it actually," Marissa said, smiling in a self-mocking way at the memory. They both chuckled. When they both fell silent, Marissa said, "I have something I have to tell you about Mundungus."

* * *

Marissa bounded lightly off the train and onto the platform of Hogsmeade Station. She wished that she could see exactly where Mundungus was, but then the whole point of borrowing James's Invisibility Cloak was that no one would be able to see him. Trying to blend in to the crowd was just too much of a liability for a Fletcher, especially under McGonagall's nose considering the only robes that Marissa had where Gryffindor ones. No, the Invisibility Cloak was better, even if it made her neurotic. 

She stayed to the edge of the crowd so that he wouldn't lose sight of her, but had no way to tell if he was keeping up. And then there was the question of what to do if she ran into - 

"Marissa!" James Potter yelled even as he popped out of nowhere and came pelting at her. He picked her up and swung her around in greeting, making her laugh. Then he stood back, running his hand nervously through his hair as he tried to look more gentlemanly as he peered about for her best friend. That was why Lily had not gotten off the train with her. 

Marissa laughed again, yanking his hand down out of his hair, "She's not with me, James, and she's of the opinion you need a haircut anyway." James looked highly affronted, which was of course the only reason Marissa had included the haircut comment. 

Before he could retort, Sirius Black voice roared from the other end of the platform, "WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS SHE I'M GOING TO KILL HER!" and James merely smirked at her. Then Sirius spotted Marissa and, brushing past his current flame without a second thought, came pelting towards her much like James had a moment ago, except that he looked fit to kill. 

James, possibly taking the chance that Lily was watching from somewhere in the crowd milling about, stood in front of Marissa to protect her. "Oh no you don't PRONGS!" Sirius shouted, trying to move past him. "Your Gryffindor chivalry does not extend to the girl who had those giggling first and second years pawing all around the castle on a scavenger hunt that RUINED our exploits ALL HOLIDAY! It was like having all the PREFECTS back in the castle!" 

"Nevertheless," James replied, "I'm going to force you to be a gentleman, Padfoot." 

"Don't be self-righteous with me Prongs!" Sirius shouted angrily, lunging and very nearly getting past him. "Not after all the threats you made when the last item on the list was one of your boxers!" At that reminder, James lost his grip. Whether or not it was intentional is subject to debate. 

However, the real protection of Marissa came in the form of an invisible force suddenly giving Sirius what looked, to the trained eye, like a punch in the gut. It probably was not a very hard punch considering it came from a nine year old and Sirius was used to much more serious forms of Muggle dueling from the Slytherins, but it took him completely by surprise. The unseen force used this surprise to knock him to the ground. 

Marissa and James, who could probably guess something of what was going on, doubled up with laughter at Sirius who was now wide-eyed with fright and trying to duck unseen blows. He was whipping his head around very comically in his search for their source. 

"What kind of new devilry is this, Fletcher?" Sirius demanded, still jerking his head back and forth wildly. 

"Honestly, Padfoot," James said, shaking his head, now also trying to distinguish where the person inflicting the blows on his best friend was standing. "Don't you know that lionesses stick together?" James said, obviously thinking that Lily was the one under the Cloak. 

"Well call off whoever it is off, Fletcher!" Sirius shouted in annoyance. 

"Is the great Sirius Black admitting defeat?" Marissa teased. 

"I can't fight what I can't see," Sirius snapped irritably. "Now, please." 

"Since you asked so nicely," Marissa said with a small bow. "Surely, oh mysterious defender of the righteous defenseless," she said ceremoniously in Mundungus's general direction, "The perpetrator has been punished enough for his anger and rash action." 

Sirius waited a long moment after the barrage abated before he moved to stand. Judging by the grunt and massaging of his head, Mundungus had used the opportunity to land one last parting blow on the back of his head. 

When Remus and Peter came up from the train, James was still doubled over laughing. Sirius growled, "Ignore the stag." Peter shot a look at Marissa but said nothing. "How's it going, Moony? Wormtail?" 

"All according to plan," Remus replied immediately. Marissa suppressed an eye-roll with difficulty. The Marauders used that phrase even when they were admitting extreme boredom. "Let's grab a carriage, shall we?" 

They tromped up to the carriages and stuffed all five on them in one, feeling slightly crowded but unwilling to kick just one person out to find their own carriage. Peter had looked rather terrified for a moment when he realized they were too many, apparently convinced that he would be the one sent from their presence. However, it was Marissa who had the real worry. How would she argue for an "empty" seat when they were already overcrowded? 

James came to her rescue, making it into a joke that her "unseen protector" should have the place of honor. "An excellent idea. Come on, let's get in, I hate looking at those horrid horses. What are they anyway?" Marissa got in without realizing that James and Peter were rolling their eyes and Sirius and Remus were looking uncomfortable. 

A few minutes later, they were marching up the stairs and into the Great Hall laughing and talking all at once as if they hadn't seen each other for ages rather than weeks. James and Sirius could resist giving the Marauders who had been Missing-In-Action a blow by blow that made Marissa resort to covering her ears and humming loudly to herself at times. 

When the doors flung open, James and Sirius were suddenly gone. Remus looked about for a moment, then shrugged and hurried up the marble staircase. Peter, not wanting to be left alone with Marissa just yet, ran after him. 

For a moment Marissa was puzzled, then it all became quite clear. Very loudly so. "THERE SHE IS!" Natalie Blaise shouted, causing a huge group of girls to come pelting up to her. Marissa closed her eyes to steal herself for a mess of giggling as somewhere between thirty and forty girls rushed her. 

"Hey! Hey! Quiet!" she tried to yell over them, getting jostled and nearly knocked over. Marissa realized she had to act fast before Mundungus thought that he had to come to her rescue again. She put her fingers between her teeth and whistled loudly. At last, they began to calm down enough for her to shout over them, "All right! All right! I don't know where James is!" Most of them moaned disappointedly. 

"What about. . .Sirius?" Penelope Henderson, a Ravenclaw girl with curly brown hair and a boyfriend, asked dreamily. This seemed to be a common sentiment. 

"No, no, I don't know where he is either," Marissa assured them with a roll of her eyes. 

"Well, when are we meeting?" a first year Gryffindor named Suzette Bones but called Suzie Q. asked excitedly. 

"Full fan club this Friday, the new semester's theme song is posted on the houseboard, only registered members can read it, make sure that no busybody tries to take it down, I've already spoken to the house elves," Marissa said quickly, business-like. "Gryffindor Booster Squad, we don't have a Quidditch Match until the end of term. It'll be such a long absence I want to go over the top. Meeting Wednesday Night, the normal time. Now, break!" 

Marissa hadn't really expected this American football huddle command to work even with the Muggle-borns, but it was the way she felt. If they didn't break off into smaller groups soon, she felt like they were going to snap her in half. "Where are you, Gus?" she said out of the corner of her mouth when they had dispersed. 

"Right here," he hissed to her right. 

"All right, let's go - " she began, but was interrupted by Professor McGonagall calling down the stairs at her. 

"Miss Fletcher, I would like to see you in my office," she said sternly. 

Marissa bit her tongue. Could she have one moment of peace in this castle to get Gus settled? "Now, Professor?" she said, looking up. 

"Immediately, Miss Fletcher." 

Marissa sighed and struggled up the stairs toward her head of house. "Just stay close, Gus," she said, trying not to move her lips. She was already wishing for an Invisibility Cloak to hide herself under. It was going to be a very interesting term.

* * *

Thanks to all two reviewers, love ya'll lots! 

©KatyMulvaney1-13-2004 

Posted: 11-5-2004 


	3. Somewhat Less Than Subtle

**Disclaimer:** Yes, JK Rowling's fanfiction pen name is Grimm Sister, and she's wasting all the time she should be devoting to the sixth Harry Potter book on a fanfic that's not even popular. Wouldn't that be ironic? Fortunately for Potter fans, I am myself and only myself and myself does not happen to be the creator of Harry Potter or Hogwarts. More's the pity for me.

* * *

**Chapter Three  
Somewhat Less Than Subtle **

Mariella Goring was obsessive about her cauldron. Actually, she was obsessive about just about everything to do with her potion-making stations. Then again, she was a fifteen year old girl doing the kind of research that grown, qualified witches and wizards had been doing futilely for a very long time, all of it under the close eye of both Professor Severus Snape and Madam Pomfrey. Not that Remus Lupin was complaining considering he was her guinea pig. He was actually rather glad that Mariella was so methodical and meticulous about her potions, he was taking them afterall. 

But it was still amusing to see her running her gloved hands all up and down the cauldron to check for leaks when she had just prepared another potion (and run the same check) only a few hours ago. He had commented on this once, and she had immediately snapped back that the ingredients she was using were so extraordinarily expensive that a leak could mean much more than that she may have to do the potion over again. However, as long as he stayed away from comments about her quirks, watching her prepare the potions was easily the most enjoyable time he spent at his new "job." Everyone called it that out of kindness, but Remus felt keenly how far he had come from his work at the Ministry after Dolores Umbridge's decree was ratified. 

The actual experiments, Mariella called them "observations," every full moon were nowhere near fun, of course. It was difficult to tell her if things were better or not; it was impossible to compare his past experiences because a human hadn't been sitting in the room with him while he transformed in the past. Then there was the abject terror that her precautions would not succeed, that he would get past the barrier she had set up around the old couch in the Shrieking Shack. Sure, she assured him that she would merely transform into her owl form, but that was a whole new source of guilt. 

He had told her about James, Peter and. . .Sirius's. . .animagus forms. She hadn't told anyone, not even Dumbledore, but Remus sometimes wondered if the man understood why she couldn't get accurate data watching him in her animal form. Remus wondered how much Dumbledore could guess. . . 

So the only really safe times were when he was watching her prepare the ingredients and artfully manage the cauldron. He had never thought he would think of potionmaking as an art form, but the way Mariella Goring did it. . .well he appreciated that she was an artist. 

What he liked about the time they spent in the deserted Hospital Wing, however, was that they were talking while she worked. It had been a very long time since anyone talked to him like they truly believed that he was human being. He found himself being honest with her. It had been almost easy, natural for him to tell her about his friends' work and sacrifice. She was the only one that he had talked to about Lily and James and Peter and Marissa. But not Sirius. He didn't doubt that she noticed the omission, but perhaps she understood anyway. Sirius Black was not a pleasant subject, even the memories of the better days. 

Another person that they never talked about was Snape. It was odd, considering that he was intimately involved with every part of the project but the test subject. But Mariella Goring never spoke of him. He had asked why once. 

"Why don't you hate him?" 

"Who?" Mariella asked confusedly, concentrating on the Shrivelfig she was shredding expertly. "Bill? Are you kidding? He was the first person in the three years to look at me without flinching! I can forgive Weasley for being a prat about my boyfriend." 

"No, Snape." 

Mariella actually stopped slicing. The knife froze, mid-stroke. She looked over at him in shock. "Whatever gave you the idea that I didn't?" she asked quietly. She paused, then gave a little shake of her head and added, "And for that matter, whatever gave you the reason that I should?" 

"You have more reason to hate him than we ever did," Remus replied. "Don't even try to tell me that you don't blame him for your parents' death." 

"All right," Mariella replied. "I won't." She looked back down at the counter and began to slice it again. "And, yes, of course I hate him for it." 

"Then. . .then how do you do it?" Remus asked, unable to keep back the question that had burned within him since they began the project. "I mean, work with him, learn from him? He tutors you almost nightly, not to mention helping you research and design the potion each month. How can you even stand to be in the same room with him for Potions class?" 

Mariella stopped working again and answered, "I forget it after awhile when I'm around him." 

Remus stared mutely at her. "How do you forget something like _that?_" he demanded. 

"Damned if I know. I guess it's just that. . .it's just that. . .I know that my parents weren't good people. I have no illusions as to that. They were Death Eaters. I'm coming to grips with it," Mariella said, a shudder running through her. "I realize he's not a bleeding heart like Dumbledore; he's the kind who'd realize that it would be better if they were dead. . .but still I can't. . ." she trailed off for a moment. Then she said unexpectedly, "I caught him wincing once, when I was beheading catepillars. He 's not kind, but he does have a sense of honor and a courage. It's extreme and prejudiced, but it's a sense of right and wrong nonetheless. Hard to see, perhaps, but still there. Somehow I just, I just can't make myself look at him and think that he would let my parents die without trying hard to make myself remember it." 

"It's funny," Remus said. "You and I, we're the first to accuse Severus Snape of indirect murder, but in the end we're the first to disbelieve it." 

"Well, he's a complex one, almost as complex as this potion," Mariella replied clinically, returning to her work. 

"Kind of like our little match maker, how _do_ you know Mundungus Fletcher, Mariella?" Remus asked. 

"Funny you should use that term, 'match-maker.' It's a long story, Dung's and my friendship. Suffice it to say I introduced him to his brother and his wife," Mariella replied. "That's why he figured he owed me, anyway." 

"Ah, yes, the future Mrs. Joy Fletcher, lovely woman. Friend of Bill's, didn't you say?" Remus asked. 

"Yes, from Brazil, sent him a hat last year that did such things to his hair!" Mariella laughed reminisciently. 

"And you took Dung to see Harry?" Remus said more seriously. "How did that happen?" 

"Harry gave his cousin, I think it's Dustin or Dudley, Dragon Pox," Mariella explained. "And of course, he could throw it off, but his cousin. . .well, I used the excuse to let Mundungus see the boy who would have been his brother. That was disaster, care to hear the story?" 

"Summarize it for me," Remus replied. 

"You know the comics, _Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mag Muggle_?" Mariella asked, sounding highly amused. Remus nodded slowly. "The first issue is actually the story of a man taking a baseball bat to some Christmas carolers in a nice, quiet neighborhood..." 

"No!" Remus cried in surprise. 

"I'm afraid so. Took me half an hour to calm them down after I subdued Dung, and once I had almost convinced them that he was a mental patient not usually dangerous, in comes Petunia and starts screaming like crazy that I'm a witch," Mariella laughed, shaking her head at the memory. It was just barely long enough ago to be funny rather than awful. 

"So Petunia hasn't changed, then?" Remus asked. 

"I don't know, what was she like before?" Mariella countered. "Dung's certainly changed if he ever was the way you've described him, though. That's for sure." McGonagoll's face was stern, but Marissa could still distinguish both lips, which she took to be a good sign, even if they seemed a shade thinner than usual. She tried to tell herself that they always looked like that after a few weeks without seeing them. If she hadn't been so nervous about Gus she might have convinced herself. 

"Miss Fletcher," she said, once they were seated. "I have been informed that you took it upon yourself as prefect to organize the students left behind in Gryffindor Tower over the break." 

Marissa was utterly bewildered. She smiled uncertainly, wondering where this was heading. "I have further been informed that one such activity you arranged was a scavenger hunt," McGonagoll said sternly. 

"If that is true, which I do not admit," Marissa replied smoothly, glad that the conversation was in a realm that it was safe to visit with the Professor, "I would never include anything dangerous in the scavenger hunt and would, hypothetically of course, included instructions to obtain all the items within the school rules." 

"Yes, I'm certain that you would, allegedly," McGonagoll said, what looked to the practiced eye like a smile tugging at her lips and to the unpracticed eye like she was glowering at Marissa. "And after perusing the hypothetical list that you may or may not have given the Gryffindor girls who were staying behind. . ." she drawled sarcastically. "I have determined that none of these objectives as you do not admit to calling them here are for a malicious purpose or against school rules, as you so correctly state. However, the final item. . ." Now a smile was definitely tugging at the corners of her lips. "Call me crazy, but it appears to be an invasion of privacy." 

Marissa looked over at the list, staring down at the final item. Written in what her teacher of five years must surely recognize as her handwriting, were the words, "James Potter's boxers." Marissa tried very hard to meet her eyes after glancing down at this list. "Out of curiousity, just who is it turned me in?" Marissa asked, not quite looking up at McGonagoll. 

At that moment, a book toppled off of McGonagoll's shelf unexpectedly. Marissa endured a brief moment of utter panic before McGonagoll bellowed, "PEEVES! OUT!" She tried not too look too relieved when McGonagoll turned back to her and asked her to put the book back up on its shelf. Hoping that Mundungus had had the sense to move, and would have the sense not to be so nosy from now on, Marissa did so. Glancing at the title she could scarcely blame him, though _Hogwarts, A History_ was unlikely to provide him with any of the interesting, or rather illegal, information that Mundungus would appreciate. Marissa smiled to think what damage Gus could do with the knowledge that the Marauders had. He would have been a terror if he had been one of them. 

"Returning to the matter at hand," McGonagoll said, staring reproachfully at a spot of thin air (hopefully empty thin air) that she thought might still contain Peeves. "The complaint was made anonymously, but Mr. Potter has since claimed that twenty pairs of his boxers have gone missing." 

Marissa snorted. McGonagoll looked up at her, her mouth going very thin. "I'm sorry," Marissa said, giggling as she said it. "It's - it's not funny, I'm not laughing," she said, struggling unsucessfully to supress her chuckles. "It's not remotely funny I don't know why I would laugh I apologize." She tried to hold it in and snorted again a moment later. McGonagoll sent her a very stern look. "_Twenty?_" she stuttered, "There aren't twenty people in Gryffindor Tower at Christmas, much less the girls I gave the scavenger hunt to. . .oh, I see." At the realization, Marissa could not suppress yet another chuckle. "Just how many boxers does he have? _Twenty?_" 

"Apparently he has far less now that he did before Christmas," McGonagoll said sternly, but though her mouth was very thin, Marissa thought that the fact that the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts was discussing James Potter's boxers with the house prefect was not lost on the old Transfiguration professor. Marissa tried desperately to stop giggling and suceeded this time, but couldn't keep the quite unhelpful smirk off her face. "Which you will be required to replace." 

"I don't have a lot of Potter worthy boxers lying around in my room, Professor," Marissa replied daringly. "Or galleons. Will the Muggle equivalent of either do?" 

"This is a very serious matter, Miss Fletcher," McGonagoll reprimanded her. "You will make reparations to Mr. Potter or see to it that every. . .item, is returned promptly. In the future you will restrict any activities, especially those to take place in your absense, to those which inconvenience no one else. Do I make myself clear?" 

"Yes, ma'am," Marissa replied, trying her best to look chastized rather than amused. 

"Good," McGonagoll replied tersely. "Now, you may go. Be more mindful of private property in the future, and I trust we'll never have to have this conversation again." 

"Thank you, ma'am," Marissa said. She held the door open for a long time, until she was absolutely certain that she felt Gus brush past her. Once outside she heaved a sigh of relief. McGonagoll didn't know about Gus yet, and she hadn't even gotten a detention for the scavenger hunt. All in all, it was not nearly so bad as she had expected. 

It was as she was heading down the corridors that the discussion hit her again, causing her to fall into a fit of giggles that caused many odd looks to be directed her way. A mysterious force seemed to be causing the overtly hostile to drop their books or trip unexplainedly. All in all, Marissa and Gus's journey through the school was far from subtle. 

Considering, it was almost surprising that they made it to the Day Star Room without any further trouble. The original purpose of the Day Star Room might have been anything from scientific to romantic. The small, circular ceiling was enchanted much like the one above the Great Hall. However, instead of showing the sky outside as it really was, it showed what stars would could have been seen if clouds or the sun didn't block them out. Looking up at the ceiling at noon, one could see the stars that no one ever saw, because they came out only during the day when the sun shone too brightly for them to be visible. As far back as anyone could remember, it had served as a kind of ad hoc dormitory, not that anyone officially slept there. Professor Sinistra was known to use the room for catnaps during experiments or observations or to do research on the skies that no one else would ever see. 

"I like this room," Gus declared, gaping up at the "sky" above him. "It won't. . .it won't rain on my in here will it?" he looked up at her so earnestly that Marissa had to bite back a laugh. 

"No, Gus, you'll be all snug and dry in the worst of storms," Marissa replied. _Which may be what's in store for us,_ she added silently. "Do you like it?" Gus merely turned to her with eyes wide with amazement. Marissa laughed in understanding. "Well, it's a bit small, and if you get cabin fever in here I'm not sure how we can relieve it. . .the only really safe time to take you out anywhere is at night and that's just about the worst time to be wandering around the castle," Marissa warned him. He looked up at her in confusion. Hogwarts was heaven, how could there be any problems with heaven? She smiled to reassure him. 

"How did they make this room, Marissa?" he said, staring back up at the ceiling with wonder. 

"Well, according to that book you were trying to steal from McGonagoll," Marissa added dryly. "The Astronomy teacher Professor Sinistra's husband made it for her almost forty years ago for their first year anniversary. She was obsessed with the night skies to the point that he caught her frowning up at the sun, resenting it for hiding the stars that came out during the day from view. So he made her this room. Reportedly it took him over half of their first year of marriage, but she loved it." 

"Ah that's mushy stuff," Gus waved the charming tale aside. "What I want to know is how did he do it?" 

Marissa grinned. Just like a boy to be interested in the mechanics of it rather than the motive. "If I knew that I wouldn't have to worry about two and a half more years of school, now would I?" she countered his question, ruffling his hair. 

"Do you think you could find out how?" Gus asked her excitedly. 

"That would take a very long time, Gus," Marissa said steadily. "Which I don't have to spare with you to take care of. But if you want, I'll sneak you a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ so you can look up something about it." 

"Cool!" he replied enthusiastically, still gaping around at the room. 

Marissa smiled to herself, knowing that he would have lost interest in the question long before she could get any books to him to research it for himself. Lily was waiting for Marissa when she entered her room at long last. "Did you talk to McGonagoll?" she asked sharply before Marissa could even greet her. Marissa nodded. "And is Mundungus. . .here?" Lily continued, sounding very upset about something. 

"You of all people should know that a boy couldn't get up the staircase, Lils, no he's not staying here, however much I'd like that. I set him up in that little spare bedroom near the Astronomy Tower, you know, Professor Sinistra's hideaway," Marissa replied, setting down her purse and plopping down on her own bed without fanfare. 

"Brilliant, Riss, the number one snog spot in Hogwarts!" Lily said, sitting up on her bed, looking almost as stern as McGonagoll. 

"Afraid it'll cramp your style, Lils?" Marissa teased, kicking off her shoes. Lily gave her a very unappreciative look. "My, my, I do believe we've found the one look that does not look appealing on the glamorous Miss Lily Evans: sour annoyance." Lily looked about to make a furious retort, but Marissa cut her off, "Come now, Lils, think. Mr and the future Mrs Jackson Abbot got caught kissing in their last month, causing our esteemed and well-meaning professors to seal the room. The sudden epiphany of the glaringly obvious to the staff makes it quite undesirable for desiring students, and the professors, dear, misguided souls that they are, believe that their enchantments are sufficient. Silly dears, don't they realize who they're dealing with? So I have, in fact, installed Gus in the one place in this castle where no one is likely to go." 

"So he's there now?" Lily asked, sitting stiffly straight up and almost glaring at her. Marissa glanced at her best friend, then nodded in the same non-chalant way she had acted throughout the entire conversation. "Good, because we need to talk," Lily said, staring down at her seriously. She appeared to be assembling herself for a calm, rational discussion in the moment she took a deep breath, but when she opened her mouth a yell came out, "ARE YOU CLINICALLY INSANE?!" 

"No, not clinically. 'Technically insane' however is debatable - " Marissa returned lightly but more warily than before. 

"You kidnapped your little brother and brough him with you to Hogwarts!" Lily cried, her tone one of question and extreme exasperation. "Did you do a vanishing trick with your marbles and lose them completely?" 

"Why do you need some?" Marissa replied, waving her wand and causing a cascade of marble to tumble down from the ceiling. Their canopies were protecting them, but Lily looked furious. 

_"Stop them now,"_ she replied dangerously. Marissa shrugged and waved her wand, mumbling the counterspell quietly enough that Lily wouldn't be able to hear it. After a moment's staring contest with her incensed best friend, Marissa picked up one of the stray marbles on her bed and extended her hand toward Lily. She let out an inarticulate cry of frustration. 

Marissa pulled her arm back and gazed down at the marble as she spoke, "I don't like the word kidnap, Lils. It implies I took him against his will, that I didn't take him to a better place than he was before. I helped him run away." 

"Oh, you just helped him run away, did you!" 

"Calm down, Lils." 

"Calm down Lils!" Lily shrieked, obviously losing it completely. "Have you any idea what it is you've done?" 

"Yes, and I think it's quite safe to say that I have a far better understaning of exactly what it is I've done than you do, Lily Violet Evans," Marissa returned snappishly, or as close as Lily had ever heard her come. "Now will you calm down and let me contemplate just how deep I've gotten myself in without drowning in your yelling?" 

Lily calmed down only slightly. "You're in way over your head here, Riss. Even for you." 

"I know, Lils, I know, believe me I know," Marissa replied pacifyingly. "But there's no turning back now." Lily slumped a bit, relaxing onto the bed. 

For a minute, silence reigned in the room. Then Marissa shifted and pulled James's cloak out of her robes. "Will you take James's cloak back to him for me? It was one of his conditions for letting me have it." Lily made a very disgruntled noise. "He likes you, Lily, don't take it like an insult." Lily grunted again, not in agreement. "You can tell him off when you do. . ." Marissa enticed her temptingly. 

"The damned voyeur," Lily mumbled with a bit of her own spirit back, taking the Invisibility Cloak from Marissa. 

"Be subtle, Lily!" she called after her as the door closed. "Riss there are a bunch of giggling first years down in the Common Room waving around stuffed vulture hats and living miniature griffin models screaming for you?" Lily said as she swept into the room. 

Marissa grinned and rolled off the bed, landing on her shoes and sliding into them. "Sure you don't want to come? If you knew about McGonagoll I bet you've heard what the last item on their list was?" 

Lily sighed and didn't respond. She grabbed her Transfiguration book (her favorite subject) and sat down on the windowseat to read it. Marissa gave her a smile that she didn't see and flitted out the door without disturbing her. 

The moment she entered the Common Room, she was ambushed for the - what? third? she was losing count - time that day. This time she was at least expecting it. "So I take it you all did the scavenger hunt?" Marissa shouted over the excited babble. 

There was a great roar off cheering that she took for a yes. "All right. ALL RIGHT!" she yelled to get their attention. Another person would have been uncomfortably aware that the whole of Gryffindor Tower was watching the preceedings with expressions varying from amusement to derisiveness, but Marissa was aware only of the very conspicuous absense of all of the Marauders but Remus who had seated himself in a corner and was reading (Potions, he was atrocious at it and always trying to study it in his spare time). "If you all turn in the - ahem - final item on the list I'll be able to determine who won the Hunt." 

There was a mad scramble during which everyone, at some vague point in the confusion, handed her a pair of James Potter's boxers. "Okay," she said when they had all begun to back away, "Ready to meet the winner?" They all nodded eagerly. 

Marissa took out her wand pronounced grandly, "The Winner. . .of the 1976 Gryffindor Yuletide Scavenger Hunt is. . ._premio comenzo_." One pair of boxers, a black, simple one thank goodness for all concerned, rose up from the pile and floated over to one gleeful looking girl who gave a great cheer and jumped up and down in her excitement. 

Marissa clapped for her and soon the entire Common Room was cheering good-naturedly for her. "Congratulations to Sarah Portman!" Marissa cried over the ruckus, lifting her arm aloft in triumph. "For your prize, you may keep any of the Scavenger Hunt items that you wish as a trophy a-a-a-and. . .twenty galleons prize money!" 

"Twenty galleons?" Frank Longbottom demanded indignantly. "Cheap, are you, Fletcher?" 

"I won't take that from you, Longbottom!" Marissa returned. "Not unless you're willing to pitch in the extra galleons to make up the difference." 

Frank almost scowled. Then he smiled, his grin jolly as he went for his purse. Marissa sighed, it was a great goal in her life to make Frank Longbottom frown. It would give her almost as much pleasure as seeing him finally admit his feelings for Alice Watterbe. She only had two years left, but she was determined that both would be accomplished before he graduated. 

"Get the boxers!" the girl next to Sarah cried excitedly. Everyone laughed. "I'm serious!" she shrieked over them. Everyone laughed again. 

"You can have it. Everyone else, see if you can get Frank to fund a second and third place cash prize," Marissa said with a mischievious glint in her eye. 

She used the opportunity to slip off to Remus's corner with James's remaining boxers still in tow. She sat down in the armchair next to him and pointedly closed his book. "I have a proposition for James and Sirius, and I need you to play messenger boy for me," Marissa replied. "Afterall, you're the only one of the Marauders who I trust to be honest about a transaction of this nature." 

"I already got you one of our most secretive treasures for you, and you send Lily to return it quite embarassingly. Selling them on any loan will be very difficult just now," Remus replied, flipping through the book trying to find his place again. 

"Not a loan so much as a trade," Marissa replied. "You see, I have in my possession what I have previously been informed by no lesser an authority than McGonagoll herself is every single pair of underwear that James Potter possesses. And while he may be getting by for a time, I have the feeling he would very much appreciate having them back. Now, I know that he quite desperately wants these back rather than cash compensation because however understanding Mr and Mrs Potter are, I don't think they'll appreciate the request to buy him an entire new set of boxers that are being bankrolled by his female friend." Remus looked up at her in surprise, looking appreciative of her twisted mind. "And the next time any of you boys go to McGonagoll about me remember that I have enough on the lot of you to keep you in detentions every night until the end of the year." 

"It's interesting to hear you threaten us, the Golden Girl of Hogwarts and all," Remus said with a smile, marking the page he appeared to have finally found. 

"Who me? I'm quite happy to return your friends pants, but I want something in return." 

"So what do you want in return for their return?" Remus asked, looking over at her. 

"I want James and Sirius' mirrors," Marissa replied. Remus choked and goggled at her. "I know what they can do, and I want to borrow them, rest assured I'll return them." 

"Regardless of whether you'll return what you want in return for the return of the. . .items," Remus replied. "Oh hang it all, Marissa, I'll come right out and ask, how in the world do you know about all this? Just how many of our supposed secrets do you know?" 

"You really don't want to know that answer, Remus, at least not yet. Take my offer to your friends, and tell them they'd do well to accept my terms," Marissa replied, standing. 

"Just what do you want them for, Riss?" Marissa smiled mischieviously and Remus decided that he didn't really want to know afterall. "Hey Prongs," Remus said, plopping down on his bed a few minutes later. "Here's a question I never thought I'd ask: do you want your underwear back?" 

All three of his fellow Marauders stared at him. "What we're all interested to know, Moony, is who you have asked that question of," Sirius replied immediately. 

Remus rolled his eyes and plowed on. "And here is question I _really_ never thought I'd ask: what are you willing to do to get your underwear back?" 

"Oh now you're just teasing us, Moony, c'mon, give us a hint who he - uh, she was!" Sirius replied mercilessly. "If you don't we'll be forced to guess." 

"Bottomline, James," Remus continued, pretending that he could not hear Sirius beginning to list those he believed Remus may have used the line on, "Marissa has all of your boxers, but refuses to return them unless you lend her yours and Padfoot's two way mirrors." 

"Has she bloody gone wacko?" Sirius exclaimed, not realizing he was the second to do so in the past half hour. "After what she's put us through? She's got to be nuts, she knows McGonagoll's got her over the barrel!" 

"She wants the _mirrors?_" James exclaimed dumbfounded. "How the bloody hell does she even know about all this? And she expects favors after showing Lily the Cloak? Now she's convinced I've used it to spy on her in the loo or something! And she wants our mirrors!" 

"Basically," Remus replied evenly. 

"That's some nerve!" 

"Well, she made provisions for it, if you were of that opinion," Remus replied, glancing down at his rather longer than necessary nails rather than at his friends. 

All three turned to look at him with interest and slight alarm at that. "What does that mean, Moony?" James finally demanded indignantly. 

"Oh wake up, Prongs, you know she doesn't bust us for half of what she realizes is going on, by the Philosopher's Stone she's known about the Cloak for Merlin knows how long!" Remus snapped, looking up at him. "And isn't it just like Rissa to keep a record of everything she's let us off for to blackmail us with when it's necessary to make us do the right thing?" All four Marauders were looking very sober at this. 

"She wouldn't dare," Sirius said confidently. 

"If that's the risk you want to take," Remus said carelessly, knowing that Peter and James would take the bait at least. 

James appeared to be thinking very hard, which was not a very good sign for Marissa Fletcher at the moment. "All right, I say lend her the mirrors." 

Sirius made an outraged cry of protest. "_Lend,_ Padfoot, _lend_," James assured him. "But prank her so silly she'll wish she never knew that they existed." 

So that was the gleam in his eye. "No way, Prongs, we're talking about Marissa here, we stop sparing her and soon enough we'll be turning on eachother," Remus tried desperately, looking to Peter for support. 

"Well, I vote for starting a prank war, it's not like we stand any real chance of losing," Sirius replied with ill-disguised excitement. 

"That's two votes, Moony, a Marauder almost-majority," James replied. 

"You and Sirius together only count as one vote, remember?" Remus snapped back at them. 

"Why's that?" James demanded. 

"Because you always vote the same," Remus said with the air of one extending patience on a three year old. James and Sirius looked at eachother for a minute, then shrugged and nodded in agreement. 

"All right Peter, all up to you then," James said, turning to him, his very expression putting pressure on poor Pettigrew whom they all knew hated being put on the spot like this. 

He cleared his throat nervously, afraid of upsetting any of his friends. Then the memory of the look on Marissa's face when she pulled away, that shock that proved she had not known him so well as he had always thought. He remembered how it felt to have his lips against hers and have her not responding in the least, and he made his decision. "Let's get her." 

©KatyMulvaney2-Friday13-2004 

Posted: 11/13/04 


	4. Blackened and Burnt

**Disclaimer:** Is anyone really stupid enough to think that I own Harry Potter? Well, no, I don't. Honestly, on this site you should get the drill by now. By the way, I don't really own almost the entire world and all the characters. About all I do own is Mariella Goring and Sandra Penola. And if you use them then I will not be suing you. That is one of my pet peeves: YOU CANNOT SUE UNLESS YOU HAVE BEEN INJURED! And I will most certainly not suffer emotional or finacial loss, what money am I getting on this site in the first place? Now that all ignoramuses have been satisfied...

* * *

**Chapter Four   
Blackened or Burnt?**

_My, my, my, this is going to be an interesting year._

"So even you think Dumbledore's crazy for letting me come here?"

_Your parents shouldn't have said that._

"How do you know that they - "

_There's not a thought within your head the Sorting Hat can't see. Hm, that's a good line for next year's song._

"Well if that's true that you should know that they didn't mean for me to hear!"

_But they shouldn't have thought it at all. You do belong here. And magical objects as old as me do not make mistakes very often._

"I don't want pity from a hat. I don't want pity from anyone. You don't have to feel sorry for me."

_Is that how you will treat all overtures of friendship? If so you are not suited for Hufflepuff._

"Look, there's only one house a monster like me could be suited for. Just put me in Slytherin already and get it over with."

_Is that what you want?_

"What happened to 'not a thought within your head the Sorting Hat can't see'?"

_I want to hear you say it._

"I want to be in Slytherin."

_It's no use lying to a being such as me, young man._

"Fine. No. I don't. But I'm not exactly fit for anything else, am I? Can you put me in Gryffindor, where the brave people who kill things like me belong? You've already ruled out Hufflepuff, and you're right. Loyalty isn't my strength. I'm a lone wolf. And Ravenclaw? What would someone like me do in Ravenclaw but be found out? I don't belong in any of the other three houses."

_But you do not belong in Slytherin._

"Congratulations, you've stumbled onto the story of my life. I don't belong anywhere."

_Is that what you think?_

"That's what I know. I'm a werewolf for howling out loud!"

_You're clever. . .and brave to speak of the demon that torments you. I'm sorry, but I cannot in conscience place you in Slytherin. You will have to learn how to accept life as a _"GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

The hand off of the mirrors took place at breakfast the following morning. By lunch, the battle lines were clearly drawn. However, none of the Marauders had the slightest guess who Marissa was talking to on the mirror that she kept in her purse. This was originally their main objective. It had become quite obvious that she had somehow already given the second mirror away when whoever it was tried to call her during Transfiguration. Not that they had been very sorry for the diversion in McGonagoll's class. Then again, Sirius was seldom happy outside of Care of Magical Creatures, and what James really had a gift for was Charms, dead useful with all that they got up to. 

Despite a valiant effort involving Honeyduke's specialty honey and caramel, this was the stickiest spot that Marissa was in all morning. They were not detered. Not by a long shot. They were annoyed, to be sure, but truth be told, Remus rather admired Marissa for the look of startled surprise which she always held just long enough to satisfy James and Sirius before breaking out into a good-natured smile and laughing it off as she tried to right herself and anyone else who had been inconvenienced. After the first week, Remus suspected that the original source of the feud had been quite forgotten in the desire to see Marissa truly flustered by a prank. Personally, it was a relief to Remus that she didn't run off crying like some of their targets over the years had done. However, the secretive nature of the Marauders was not to be underestimated. They had all been deeply disturbed by the idea of just how much Marissa might know if she knew about the Cloak. Remus most of all.

One of the things that Remus thought quite likely to save Marissa before she sustained real harm (the sprained ankle she got when a prank backfired didn't count as she'd been up and about in an hour) was the fact that without her strict control, which the boys had not fully realized that she enacted on the girls before this time, James and Sirius's bloody fan clubs were getting right out of hand again. For every potion they slipped into her drink to raise her voice several octaves, one or even a group of girls would ambush James or Sirius in a semi-deserted corridor and try to "talk" to them. Without Marissa providing an outlet for their, ahem, admiration, one girl had even succeeded in gaining access to the Marauders' private sanctum and dropped off a love note complete with photograph, not of her face. The first few days, they seemed to be taking this as in stride as easily as Marissa was taking their increasingly vicious pranks. However, as the second and third week wore on, Remus's trained eye could tell that they were sick of it, even if Marissa had yet to weaken. Only an extreme sense of Gryffindor pride kept them from making peace with Marissa to end the barrage which had made it an equal war. Remus was just glad that another Gryffindor virtue, namely chivalry, seemed to be keeping them from doing anything too horible to her. Afterall, he had refused to have any part of the campaign, and he usually served as their screening process for plans.

In what the Marauders (and everyone else who recognized their target) believed was a tactical decision to avoid an obviously targeted region, Marissa stopped eating her meals in the Great Hall. Usually Lily still ate there alone, refusing adamantly to give anyone the slightest hint as to where Marissa had gone. She was also nearly impossible to find most of the afternoon nearly every day and often did not return until late at night, barely making curfew. As everyone but Lily thought she was trying to avoid the worst of the Marauders' tempers by a very simple tactic: not be there for them to prank, it was the perfect cover for spending time with Gus, time it would otherwise have been very difficult to account for.

As is the unfortunate nature of every tactic used against the Marauders, Marissa's elusiveness backfired. It gave them an idea that would prevent any future prey from ever avoiding them so effectively. They were already deeply emersed in the creation of what they considered the first true Map of Hogwarts Castle and Grounds, complete with all the secret passages they had discovered. Marissa's extraordinary and continuous success at hiding from them suggested the idea of enchanted ink: ink that would mark the progress of people in the castle. Remus would have thought it a great idea if it didn't come at the expense of his fellow prefect's already shaky peace being jeopardized once again.

James, with his remarkable aptitude for Charms, was already very close to a solution.

Such was the way of things the first month of the new term. It was on a Saturday that the explosion Marissa barely managed to keep just below the surface first seriously threatened to erupt. It started very small, but then, such things always do.

"Bee in your bonnet, Remus?" Marissa called, coming up from behind him in the Entrance Hall. Remus jumped, startled. He mentally checked off the whereabouts of his fellow Marauders: James - Quidditch practice, Sirius - looking for girls, Peter - looking for Sirius. Good. Mistaking the intense look on his face for confusion, Marissa explained, "Sorry, another Muggle term. What grim matter is on your mind?"

"You shouldn't be out in the open with all my friends gunning for you," Remus replied, turning to look at her.

She looked amused. "Where, Mr. Pureblooded wizard, did you learn a term like 'gunning for me'?" Marissa asked, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Honestly, Riss, with you and Lizzie throwing all kinds of Muggle terms in our path for half a year you don't expect the rest of us prefects to have picked up any of it?" he said with a smile.

Marissa did not respond to this comment beyond a small smile. She was looking at him searchingly. "You say your friends are the ones gunning for me. Do they consider it a treachery that you've been helping me?" Remus looked up at her in surprise, unaware that the schism of the Marauders had become obvious. "If you're going to give me credit for teaching you Muggle phrases, don't deny me the credit of a simple observation."

Again Remus said nothing. "You've had it hard, haven't you?" she asked, still looking at him as if trying to work out a riddle that was written in his eyes. Without waiting for an answer, she walked to the stairs and turned back to where he stood, "Why don't you come with me?" she said, making a snap decision. "I'll make you supper."

"You'll - what?" Remus said, stumbling after her out of pure curiousity.

Taking this for agreement, Marissa turned and started up the stairs, going slow enough that he could quickly catch up and walk alongside her. "Well, how did you think I was keeping from wasting away? You know I haven't been taking meals in the Great Hall, and I still haven't been able to coax the location of the kitchens out of you lot," Marissa replied.

Remus had to confess that he hadn't realized this. He had just assumed that she'd been getting food from the house elves down in the kitchens, but then, the house elves seemed to be a sore spot with her most of the time. "So what have you been doing?" he asked, full of curiousity for this newfound mystery.

"All in good time, Remus, all in good time," she replied with the mischievious smile that had become her trademark. She was leading him up their third flight of stairs, looking utterly unconcerned when it began to change and move while they were on it. In fact, she looked quite pleased when it landed them in a seldom-used, virtually deserted part of the school. "It's only two flights up from here," she told him, quickening her pace slightly, anxious to get there.

"Wait a minute," Remus said slowly, "That would take us right by Boris the Bewildered's corridor."

Marissa very nearly stopped dead. She looked over at him in surprise, her mouth slightly open. Then she shook herself, chuckling slightly, "Serves me right. Never underestimate a Marauder's knowledge of this school." Without another comment, she plunged ahead again, taking them unerringly to the corridor that housed the tapestry of Boris the Bewildered, the unfortunate man who though trolls well-suited for ballet. While most students merely found this amusing, Marissa seemed disappointed that such a rare man (brute enough to train security trolls but refined enough to appreciate the ballet) had not been successful in his unorthodox venture. She seemed to have a soft spot for such people, the hopeless causes. Then again, she was so full of hope and joy, it must be impossible for her to conceive of a hopeless cause.

She stopped right before they reached the tapestry of Boris the Bewildered. She proceeded to do something very strange. She closed her eyes as if in concentration, and walked back and forth across the bare stretch of wall three times. The third time, a door appeared. She opened her eyes, not looking surprised to see it there. Remus, however, was shocked, "You know how to work the Room of Requirement!"

Marissa did something very disconcerting then. She laughed at him. The mirrors, the Cloak, the Room of Requirement, just how many of the Marauders' supposed secrets did Marissa Fletcher know? This was no throw away question for Remus Lupin even though he was on Marissa's side in most of the interactions between her and his friends. Just how deep had her "infiltration," as they boys had taken to calling it, penetrated? As James had pointed out many a time when Remus protested this prank war, Marissa finding out their smaller secrets could lead her to uncovering their big one. And, as much as he liked Marissa Fletcher, Remus Lupin was the last one who wanted that to happen. In fact, it was because he liked Marissa Fletcher so much that he wanted her to be ignorant.

"I probably understand it's uses better than you lot," Marissa replied. "It's not just a Stop And Go, you know. Thank Merlin the teachers seem to think so at least." She walked to the door and held it open for him.

Remus stepped into a largish kitchen that looked like it would comfortably accomodate anywhere from one to five chefs. Most of the appliances Remus was fairly familiar with, some of them only because he had seen pictures in his Muggle Studies book. Marissa went through the kitchen, apparently checking for everything she might need. All of the ingredients were of a very fine quality no doubt straight out of the Hogwarts pantries. Then again, there were some spices that were highly unlikely to be found in any British pantries, even as esteemed ones as Hogwarts'.

What was most interesting to Remus was the door on the opposite wall. Remus, in all his various experiences with the Room of Requirement, had never seen it open into another room or corridor. He was about to ask Marissa what she had requested that the room do for her, when the small door flew open.

"Rissa!" a young boy shouted excitedly, bursting through it and running full tilt toward Marissa who laughed and closed her arms around him. She looked up over his shoulder for Remus's reaction. Considering how many surprises he had had in the last quarter of an hour, Marissa was beginning to wonder if his eyes could go any wider. She pulled away from the boy and turned to Remus, holding his hand. "Remus Lupin, I'd like you to meet Mundungus Fletcher, my little brother," she said softly as Remus watched Mundungus's eyes go wide. "Gus, this is my friend Remus. He's going to help us make dinner today."

There was a ringing silence in the kitchen as the two boys stared at eachother. Marissa seemed to be experiencing a moment of self-doubt. Had she been insane to tell Remus? "Well," she said briskly, "I suppose it's not going to just spring out of the cupboards and start fixing itself, now is it?" She pulled her hair back into a graceful but careless knot at the back of her head and fished out three aprons from a small drawer near her. She held out two pink ones to the two boys.

They stared mutely from them to her. Then Remus laughed uncertainly. Marissa quickly joined in, and just like that, the awkward silence was broken. A few minutes later Gus was demanding imperiously what they were going to cook. Marissa threw out several ideas, none of which sounded very familiar to Remus, but Gus vetoed each one. "Oh just tell me what you want to eat then!" she cried in exasperation, appealing comically to Remus for sympathy.

"Chicken enchiladas!" Gus cried enthusiastically.

"You didn't want to be easy on me, did you, small fry?" Marissa sighed but smiled and began to pull ingredients down from shelves near her. Gus recognized this as agreement and began to jump up and down in celebration. A moment later, he seemed to recover himself due to the presence of another guy. It was one thing to act six around just Marissa, but to act like that around a stranger...

"Pull me a chicken out of the icebox, Remus, and I'll explain about Gus," Marissa said, turning to him. Remus was struck by the glow that surrounded her, the light in her eyes that he could only explain by the presence of her younger brother. He hurried to obey, stumbling through the icebox until he found a good sized frozen chicken. While Marissa set it to boil she told Remus (with occassional asides from Gus) about Christmas at her house and what had led to her decision. He was silent the entire time.

Marissa set the boys to grating a huge block of mozarella cheese as she tended the pot on the stove and explained how they had snuck Gus onto the Hogwarts Express. She had just finished telling him of her encounter with Lily when she took the chicken out of the pot and added a great deal of green tomato sauce to the pot in its place. "But there's one thing I don't understand," Remus (who was still grating cheese) said. "How did you get into the Day Star Room? The teacher's sealed that place up tight. Even James and Sirius haven't been able to get in, and you know how they get about something like that when they consider it a matter of pride."

Marissa shook her head, "You boys," she replied, sounding amused. "For all your talent, you never really think outside the box. I take it James has been beating his brains in trying to overcome those enchantments, Sirius just wants to fly in through the window on a hippogriff, Peter tried to spy or trick it out of one of the teachers, and you tried a few supposedly powerful spells; then you all called it a day. Honestly, don't you realize what this room does?" She looked at him expectantly for a moment. Remus tried not to concentrate on the fact that she was almost exactly right about their specific approaches to the problem and try to figure out what she meant. She sighed, "Anything you ask it to." she answered her own question, "I just told this room that what I needed (very badly) was a door into the Day Star Room. And the room provided. It's not so much breaking their enchantments as finding a ... backdoor in."

Remus was impressed. And he had a feeling that all the Marauders would be impressed. Not that he intended to tell them. Let them think of it on their own. They thought they were so clever after all. No, they were showy and flashy. Brilliantly so, of course, but Marissa Fletcher was a true genius for breaking and entering.

"What is this recipe?" Remus asked as Marissa began to tear the chicken into small pieces and place the pieces back into the simmering pot. "Did Gus say ensaldas?"

Marissa laughed. So did Gus. Remus was struck by how similiar the laughs sounded. They didn't look particularly alike, but their voices, as Gus's hadn't changed yet, were very close. "Enchiladas," Gus told him importantly. "Mavi makes them. She says they come from Texas."

"Well technically, I think they come from Mexico, but Mavi, our cook back home, never lived there. Before she came to England her family migrated between Louisiana and Texas. So she cooks us all sorts of Mexican and cajun foods that no one else ever knows how to cook properly here. That's where I got this recipe," Marissa explained more helpfully. "I've got to admit, they're fabulous, for foreign food that is." She looked Remus up and down again. "Might be a bit spicy for you though..." she sounded worried rather than insulting.

"I think I can handle it, Riss," Remus replied automatically. Nothing was ever "too" anything for a Marauder. It was their cardinal rule. Mostly, nothing was "too dangerous" for a Marauder, but it applied to just about anything anyone could claim against them. Pride ran very strong in the Gryffindor boys.

"You're just lucky I haven't quite got the hang of chile or blackening yet," Marissa said with a laugh. Remus let it go as the comment was not exactly an argument.

"Sounds like only Sirius would like the idea of 'blackening'," Remus replied.

"It's a cooking technique, Remus," Marissa replied. "But speaking of Blackened, there's something I've been curious about for a long time and - "

"And as you've shared such a big secret with me, you think you're entitled to ask for one from me?" Remus cut her off.

"Honestly, no need to be so suspicious, Remus," Marissa replied. "I'm not going to pry. But there's something that I think Lily and I have both deserved to know for a very long time. Now that I have you off away from the rest of the cult of secrets, I thought I'd try my luck at some answers."

"Marissa, I don't know if I can tell you Sirius's secrets," Remus told her almost sternly.

"I actually want to know one that belongs to Lily," Marissa replied. Remus immediately understood what she had been driving at and was immensely sorry that the pleasant conversation had stumbled into this dark cloud. "If it's any comfort to you, I won't be telling her about it unless I feel it's my duty as her friend."

"When would it be your duty as a friend?" Remus asked cautiously.

"If she was ever about to do something that I happen to know that she shouldn't," Marissa replied, not looking at him but rather religiously watching the pot as she tore off another bit of chicken and dropped it into the pot.

"Now, do you really think that that's likely to happen anytime soon?" Remus asked, dropping the cheese and turning to look at her.

Marissa put the last bit of chicken in the pot and likewise turned to face him. "I've been encouraging Lily about James, Remus. I need to know if I've been right to do so."

Remus looked her in the eye, and she met his gaze unflinchingly. Gus watched them curiously. "You want to know if James really did ask Sirius to break up with Lily last year," Remus finally said aloud. Marissa looked back at him for a long moment before she nodded. Remus sighed and looked down, "I can't understand how Lily thinks that, really, much less you, Riss."

Marissa set the heat on the pot and sat down in a chair near the counter. "Remus, if I believed it already I wouldn't be taking such measures towards his improvement. I wouldn't be talking him up to Lily. I wouldn't be encouraging her to give him a chance. But I need to know what I'm up against. Why does Lily think that?"

"For all you've said that prettily, Marissa Fletcher," Remus replied more gruffly than he intended to speak, "You still want to know if it's true."

"I don't think James would do such a thing, but I've been wrong about people before," Marissa said simply, unapologizing.

"It's James, Marissa," Remus said, looking at her.

Marissa smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that." The relief in her voice was almost tangible.

"He'd never even say anything to his best friend about his feelings for his girlfriend," Remus said still defensively. Marissa smiled almost proudly. "We could all tell something was wrong though, and Sirius in particular knew it must be something bad when he refused to tell us. Then, one night, when we were brainstorming the Valentine's day Sirius should plan for Lily. . .well, let's just say it was James who knew all the little things that she would like. He'd suggest something, very quietly, without his normal gusto. It was very sincere, like he wanted his best friend to be happy even if he couldn't get excited about it. Then he'd have this perfect reason for it if we questioned him. Sirius kinda looked at him funny, like why did he know so much about his girlfriend? Why was he watching her so closely to realize that she never ate chocolate desserts? And that most of her jewelry was silver and wouldn't match the gold chain he wanted to buy for her?"

Marissa gave a slight smile. "Why wouldn't she eat the chocolate desserts?" Gus asked incredulously.

"Well, the point isn't even that James knew these things and Sirius didn't. They'd only been going out a little while. The point is that Sirius realized that James knew the things he didn't," Remus continued. "I think it was eating at him all day; he was very quiet. Then he comes into the room with that look in his eye like he's got something he wants to prove, and he announces that he's finalized the menu for the dinner he was planning for Lily. In here, actually."

"Let me guess," Marissa said, "He was going to try to sell her on the fact that he cooked it?"

"He wouldn't be Sirius if he didn't," Remus rolled his eyes. "He could have gotten the props at least."

"Girls can always tell, Remus. I know you boys think we're stupid or something, but believe me she would have been able to tell," Marissa laughed, shaking her head.

"They didn't have dinner?" Gus asked.

"Well, Sirius is spelling out the menu, and he gets to the drinks. All he was going to get was tea. Well, James couldn't stay quiet at that. He gently asked, 'Are you sure you don't want to get something else, Padfoot?' and Sirius replies all slyly, 'Na, tea's good for Lily.' They'd still be together today if James had rolled his eyes at Sirius's cluelessness like Peter and me, but James spoke up. He said, 'Lily's never drunk tea for anything but Divination in four years, Sirius, haven't you noticed that?' And then Sirius turned to him and said, 'No, but you have, Prongs. And that's why you should be dating Miss Lily Evans.' "

"He broke up with her the next day," Marissa stated.

"The conversation wasn't over quite that quickly. James covers his face with his hands and groans. 'Am I that transparent?' I think he said. He and Sirius have it out for a long while with Peter and me too scared to mediate. Then Sirius explodes, 'Damn it, Prongs!' Oh, sorry Riss. I'll edit it for Gus. 'Don't pull that sacrifice - crud - on me, not when it's obvious to everyone here that you're in love with her!' I think it was the first time since we entered that room that we were all in there and you could have heard a pin drop. Sirius had more to say too, 'And I don't love her, Prongs. I never did. You do. There's just something so wrong with this. Let me fix it.' "

"Sirius is a good guy," Marissa said quietly. "He did care about Lily a lot. He might have loved her someday."

"But not the way James was already in love with her," Remus replied.

"No, never like that," Marissa agreed.

"Enough mushy stuff!" Gus cried in protest. Both Marissa and Remus laughed.

"I have an idea. Gus, why don't you go get all the ingredients for the pancakes while Remus and I finish talking? Then you won't have to listen," Marissa said.

"Pancakes?" Remus said in confusion. "From what I've seen of these enchiladas ... are you sure about this, Riss?"

"What are you talking about, Remus? The enchiladas are for tomorrow," Marissa replied. Seeing the look of utter confusion on his face, she explained, "They taste better if you freeze them overnight then put them in the oven. So we're having them tomorrow. And didn't you wonder that we were making so many? I'm going to send off some to the Boneses. Goodness knows Amy won't want to be cooking now." Amy Bones and Anna Prewett were once the Jacobs twins who had graduated Hogwarts five years ago. Anna had been Head Girl and married the Head Boy Fabian Prewett. Fabian and his brother Gideon, the current Head Boy, had been tracked by Death Eaters. They had eluded them so well that they attacked Fabain's family instead. The brothers had come home from their Yuletide hiding place to find the Dark Mark over his home. Anna and her new son were dead. "If you come back tomorrow you can help me make the side dishes to send off, then we'll eat the rest of it."

"I suppose you'll want my owl to help carry it too?" Remus asked cynically.

"Actually, I was only planning on putting you out as far as taking the enchiladas down to the kitchen and convincing them to store it overnight," Marissa replied nonchalantly. "Meet you tomorrow at noon?"

"Why do I get the idea that you'll hunt me down if I don't show?"

"Sounds about accurate. But there's one thing I still want to know."

"The location of the kitchens?" Remus guessed.

"How does Lily know that James is the reason Sirius broke up with her?" Marissa countered.

Remus, who had thought that they had left that topic behind, sighed heavily. "Well, as we all know, Sirius did not break up with Lily properly." Marissa shook her head sadly at that, turning back to stir the still simmering pot with almost a frown on her face. "She really thought that he was just being Sirius Black, panicky about commitment and all. She thought they'd be officially back together in a month when he came to his senses yet again. But then ... well, you saw most of it. She'd lean her head up against his shoulder or snake her arm across his back, thinking it would be normal soon even if it was weird now, and Sirius would look at James and just about take her arm off jumping back from her. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that Sirius didn't want James to see them acting like that. Lily just took the assumptions one step farther."

"The things she started saying about him," Marissa said, still shaking her head. "The worst was actually the most logical. She could go on all day about how conceited he is ... and she's not too far off the mark now anyway, but she was furious that they would discount her own feelings. I said once that it was almost sweet of both of them to want their best friend to have the girl they loved even if it meant they wouldn't and she would be happier. Big mistake. She screamed that why should they get to decide for her who she got to be with? Didn't her feelings count for anything?"

"She does have a point there, but this feud with James is getting seriously out of hand."

"No pun intended?" Marissa asked, looking back over her shoulder.

"Well, what have you been doing about the feud, Riss?" Remus was very interested to know this.

"I'm not exactly an expert of staying on speaking terms with you Marauders, now am I?" Marissa countered wryly. "So I'm just trying to reconcile Lily to her fate as far as Sirius is concerned. I got her to speak to him again, and now they're back to being friends. I've just got to get James to deflate his head enough for her to take him seriously before I make any headway there. While he's still going around acting conceited she's got a very good case against forgiving him for being presumptuous enough to plan her love life for her."

"Your mind at ease about your quest at least?" Remus asked.

"It's quite a relief, let me tell you," Marissa replied.

"You know, it'd be a relief to me if we could get the Marauders off the warpath against you," Remus said. "If you told them about Gus - "

"No."

"We can keep a secret, Riss, it's not like we'd run to McGonagall or any - "

"No."

"Riss - "

"No."

"You didn't even let me ask yet!" Gus cried in protest.

"Oh I'm sorry, Gus, what do you want?" Marissa said, spinning on her heel to talk to him.

"Chocolate chips in the pancakes," Gus said somewhat timidly.

"You got it, Gus," Marissa replied. "Speaking of which, you got the tortillas?"

Gus handed her a package. She opened it, took one look, and handed it back to him, "Flour tortillas, Gus, not corn. Go back," she said, spinning him around and giving him a slight push in the direction of the pantry. Once he had turned back, Marissa turned to Remus, "I want James and Lily to be together. They seem to belong together, and everyone deserves someone who will make them feel like that. They got off to a horrible start, I'll grant you, but I'm not going to let them give up. Afterall, true love is a chance you only get once."

"That doesn't seem fair, what is something happens to one of them?" Remus asked.

Marissa smiled slightly. "I didn't say they'd never love again, that they wouldn't be happier with someone else than alone. I just mean that real love, honest to goodness love, is something that only happens once in a lifetime. You can't have two soulmates. You can be happy with more than one person, but there's only one person out there who will make you feel like you've finally come home."

"You're a hopeless romantic, Marissa Fletcher," Remus laughed. Marissa threw a wooden spoon at him. Dodging it nimbly (five years of living with a Quidditch star who couldn't bear to stop practicing would make you quick on your feet), Remus asked, "So when did you decide that James and Lily had that kind of love?"

"About a month before she broke up with Sirius," Marissa replied. Taking in Remus's surprised expression, Marissa laughed, "Didn't you ever wonder why she wouldn't speak to me for about a week? I was on his side! Can you imagine anything more horrible? That I'd want her to be with the boy she holds to the highest standard of all you four?"

"Um, Riss ... are you sure about that?" Remus asked uncertainly. "I'm pretty sure she hates James."

"You all have the same faults, Remus. Why can she forgive them in you, Peter, and Sirius but not in James?" Marissa pointed out cleverly. "I've lived with her for five years, I know when she's kidding herself."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't lump me in with James and Sirius, thank you very much," Remus replied. "Not when I'm sticking my neck out to be your defender."

"Oh you don't have a fan club for me to have to manage, but you're no less proud than either of them. You reacted just like they would have to the knowledge that I had thought of something for the Come and Go Room to do that you hadn't," Marissa replied, taking the tortillas from Gus who had returned. She began to add chicken to them and place them in a pan.

"Marissa, I don't exactly have girls diving at me in corridors - "

"Oh you and Peter both!" Marissa cried in frustration, nearly scalding herself as she filled a tortilla. "You really don't get it do you? Your approach is different, but you all have something that makes you a cut above extraordinary." Remus still looked highly doubtful, so Marissa continued, "Truth be told you all probably could have pulled off the bad boy image, but only Sirius really goes with it. Then there's James with the star power, air of celebrity to set him apart. Peter's the boy next door, and you're a sensitive romantic much like you just accused me of being."

"And from your attempt to blind me a moment ago, I guess I shouldn't assume that that's a good thing," Remus replied.

"It's not, it's icky," Gus added utterly seriously. "There's no better word for it. It's just sick. Girls are sick." Marissa cleared her throat loudly. "Like I said, all girls are icky."

"Why you!" Marissa cried, making a grab at Gus who danced out of her reach. "You just wait until I catch you!" She proceeded to throw her spoon down and dive after her brother, chasing him around the kitchen for a few minutes until their grievance was entirely forgotten. Laughing again, she gave him a hug that lasted a long moment. A very long moment.

Too long of a moment for Gus. He began to wriggle out of her grasp. "All right, all right," she sighed. "I'm still getting used to the fact that I can see you any time I want," she said as she released him.

Gus made a great show of backing away in disgust at the hug, and his foot landed on the wooden spoon. The moment he put his weight on it, it slid out from under him, making him loose his balance. He did not fall cleanly. He flung out his hands to try to regain his balance. His right hand landed on the burning stove. If it had landed elsewhere he might have managed to right himself, but he immediately jerked his hand up. This motion did two things: it removed his last support sending him crashing down onto the ground and caused one of the pans of hot enchiladas to land on top of him, covering his face. It was difficult to tell who screamed louder: brother or sister.

Gus was flailing about pointlessly in pain, and Marissa was not being much more useful by trying to wipe the burning food away with her bare hands. Remus, thankfully, kept a cool head and pulled out his wand. He immediately banished the burning enchiladas, then moved to pry Marissa off of her brother. It was difficult to tell who was crying more. Gus seemed to be trying very hard not to cry as he cradled his bright red hand. Marissa also seemed to be trying to calm herself down and suppress the tears falling freely down her face. After a long moment where Remus was unsure what to do next as Gus was obviously still in pain, Marissa turned to him. "Help me get him to Madam Pomfrey."

From the look in her eyes, Remus knew that she understood exactly what that meant.

"I know a shortcut," he said quickly, helping Gus to stand. They both hurried him forward, running through the halls of Hogwarts which (luckily) were deserted as nearly everyone was taking advantage of the fresh fallen snow to enjoy their time off outside. "No, this way!" Remus yelled suddenly, steering Gus toward what appeared to be a solid wall.

"Remus, are you sure about - " but they were already through into a small, little-used passageway that opened only two doors down from Hospital Wing. "Damn you're good!" she cried, pushing Gus forward the rest of the way. Just outside the door, she turned to Remus, "Go back to the Common Room. You were there all afternoon."

"Marissa - "

"Go, Remus. There's no reason for you to get into trouble for this," Marissa said, her gaze downcast.

Once he had left, Marissa opened the door and ushered Gus quickly inside. "Madam Pomfrey!" the urgency in her voice brought the matron hurrying out of her office and across the Hospital Wing until she stopped in front of the youngest boy whom she had ever had to tend at Hogwarts.

"What happened?" she said officiously, looking at his burned face and hand.

"He was burned," Marissa replied. "I was cooking, and he touched the stove."

"The face will heal cleanly," Madam Pomfrey said calmly after a moment, "But the hand I'll have to apply potion to the burn area on his hands before I heal it with a spell."

"Do whatever you have to," Marissa urged her, hovering helplessly next to the pair of them. She watched similiarly as the matron waved her wand almost carelessly and healed the wounds on his face then applied a pungent potion to his hand. She took Gus's other hand so that he could squeeze it as they waited for it to dry so that Madam Pomfrey could heal it as well. Still she had said nothing about the fact that Gus was underage and did not have on a Hogwarts uniform.

Then Madam Pomfrey neatly healed the wound, leaving the hand looking as if it had not suffered anything worse than a slight sunburn.

"Stay here, both of you," she said once she was done applying another layer potion. "I'll get you the potion you need to rub on your hand twice a day." She swept into her office. Marissa snuck quietly after her, leaning against the door.

"Professor Dumbledore's office," she heard her order her fireplace.

"Good afternoon, Poppy. It is not in vain, I hope, that I ask if this is just a sock call?"

"Sock call, Headmaster?" Madam Pomfrey said in confusion, for the first time since Marissa and Gus entered truly flustered.

"Nothing more serious than having only one sock of each pair come back from the laundry, Poppy," Marissa heard Dumbledore's voice through the door.

"It's rather a matter of finding one too many, Albus," Madam Pomfrey replied. "There's someone down here I think you need to see."

Marissa moved quickly away from the door. She signalled to Gus as she moved toward the exit. "What about the potion?" Gus asked her as she took his arm and hurried him out of the Hospital Wing.

"Good point, accio!" she said, pointing her wand back at the door of the Hospital Wing. The next moment, a small bottle of light blue potion was in her hand and they were back in the secret passage that Remus had shown them a moment earlier.

* * *

"In here quick!" Marissa urged him forward, shutting the door behind them. The candles immediately turned themselves on in response, but Marissa waved them off. She faced Gus for a moment. Both were panting, and neither of them dared to speak. It had proved unsafe to remain in one place, even a secret one, for very long with the entire Hogwarts Staff and almost every prefect joining in the hunt for them. Marissa was particularly determined that Remus would not find them as he was sure to want to try to help them and get himself into trouble as well. "I think we can rest here for a minute," she said, looking about the small, cold stone room somewhere near the North Tower. 

"Riss," Gus said in a small voice. "I'm scared. I don't want to go home."

"Come here," she said, giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead. "I told you, remember? I'll do whatever I have to, but you will not be in danger from him for another minute of another day. Understand me?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

"Good. I think I know where it'll be safe for you to spend the night, if we can get there," Marissa said, sitting down on the ground up against the wall. A moment later, Gus sat down next to her. There was a long silence where, though neither would say it, they were both listening for the sounds of pursuit. "There's one thing that I need to know, Gus. Did he ever hit you?"

There was an even longer pause. "No."

"Did he ever ... do anything else that was bad to you? Ever make you do anything that..."

"No, Riss. He never did anything like that," Gus said.

"He never hurt you?" she confirmed.

"Just with words," he said in a small voice.

"That's bad enough," Marissa told him.

Again silence engulfed them, but not so silent as before. They could hear what sounded like footsteps just a corridor or two away. Because of the the echoes it was difficult to tell which side that they were on. "Damn it!" Marissa cursed under her breath. Then she turned to Gus. "It's late, Gus. We've been doing this for hours, and we may be here for awhile. Why don't you see if you can get some sleep? It's not very comfortable, I'm not the greatest at conjuring stuff like this but I think I can manage a sleeping bag." She took out her wand and waved it carefully. A lumpy green sleeping bag and pillow appeared a moment later.

Gus pulled them over and curled up to take a nap. "Riss?" he asked tentatively. "Will you sing me Mom's song?"

Marissa crawled quietly over to where he was sleeping and ran her hand gently through his hair. Gus had never heard their mother sing this song, he only knew it because she had sung it to him when he had trouble sleeping when he was little. She sang in a soft whisper. Hers was not the greatest voice to ever grace Hogwarts, but it was full of sincerity and sweetness. And the lullaby eased Gus into sleep long before she finished it.

"When the darkness surrounds you, sweet dreamer   
Remember my words to you:   
Your dreams, sleeping and waking, will speed on the dawn   
And banish the night all around you.   
Sleep, sweet dreamer,   
And dream of a world where everything is as it should be   
And all your hopes have come true.   
Sleep, sweet dreamer,   
Dream of danger, dream of love,   
Dream of anything and everything   
And things beyond what words can say.   
Sleep, sweet dreamer,   
Dream of white shores that lie across a sea;   
Dream of a ship that sail beyond the stars   
And ends right back here with you and I.   
Sleep, sweet dreamer,   
And dream one for me   
Carry back the tale of what our world could be.   
Sleep, sweet dreamer,   
For when you have dreamt   
You will see the skies are brighter and the darkness is through,   
So sleep, sweet dreamer   
For dreaming is the greatest thing your heart will ever do."

Marissa leaned over her brother and kissed his brow. "I love you, Gus." She lay awake for several hours before deciding that the coast was clear and floating the sleeping Mundungus in front of her to a safer hideaway. ©KatyMulvaney4-13-2004

Posted: 11/19/2004


	5. In Her Mother's Place

**Disclaimer:** Okay, just to clear everything up: I am not in fact the elusive JK Rowling, so I do not own Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic or any of the characters therein with the exception of Mariella Goring and Sandra Penola and just about no one else. But even she really shouldn't have grounds to sue me as I'm not damaging her profitability in any way, in fact, the more fanfiction on Harry Potter out there the better and I REALLY don't think anyone's going to stop reading her books because of this, much less en masse enough for her to notice. In fact, I'm increasing her popularity and providing her with advertising (Observe: Go read Harry Potter and buy another copy while's you're at it!) so really she should be paying me for that service. I'm still deciding whether or not to sue her, I'm still settling on a proper sum at the moment. . .hm. . .how much do you think I could get?

* * *

**Chapter Five  
In Her Mother's Place**

The grand house was decked out to the nines for Christmas. It was obvious from just a quick glance around the foyer which of the decorations were the work of Jerome Fletcher and which were the work of his wife. Mr Fletcher's additions to the decorations ranged from ornate, over-large false Christmas wreaths and draping strings of evergreen tied off with gold bows to delicate crystal icicles that hung from the chandelier, but all were designed to impress. They favored gold and silver of the finest quality and nothing that would leave harsh pine needles sprinkling the floor. Mrs Fletcher's decorations, in sharp contrast, favored warm reds and the bright green so seldom used in refined designer decorations. She was the one who playfully placed mistletoe over the doors (there was really only one sprig of mistletoe but it seemed to migrate sometimes even several times during the course of a single day). In fact, all of her decorations had something odd about them. Or at least, not quite what you would expect. They could never be said to be doing anything _wrong_ or even abnormal, but they never seemed to be quite what they ought. Most found it amusing, however vaguelly they were aware of it. Some found it unnerving and avoided the Fletcher Mansion during the Christmas Holidays. 

One would have thought that it would have created a horrible clash, these two quite different purposes and styles of bringing Christmas cheer to the house, but instead it presented a house that seemed far more complete. The two supposedly opposing designers turned out to complement eachother instead. The Fletcher Mansion at Christmastime was a personification of their marriage. 

The comparison broke down when their daughter began to contribute homemade ornaments, mostly of her mother's variety but occassionally an obvious attempt to imitate something her father had purchased for the house. These ornaments were destined for the small Charlie Brown Christmas tree in the kitchen. This was a gross misrepresentation of the Fletchers' devotion to their only daughter. Mrs Fletcher devoted her entire life to the precious creature and even Mr Fletcher, who even then possessed work-aholic tendencies, was infamous at the office for dropping everything to rush to the aid of or to witness a triumph of his daughter's. 

In a fashionable neighborhood of gossips, political marriages, and business tycoons, the Fletchers were a poster family for old-fashioned family values and a simple, loving homelife. Mr and Mrs Fletcher were still as desperately in love as they had been when they had first married, living in a small flat in one of the worser neighborhoods, and it was not hard to decide that the young parents loved their daughter even more than they loved eachother. 

Mrs Jerome Fletcher, whom even her most recent acquaintances knew as "dear Livy", was a tall, stunning woman with a regal quality about her. Even at nearly eight months pregnant she was always known to be up and about, never seeming to have lost her natural grace. She would not permit Jerome to talk her out of attending the Christmas Eve Mass for a trifling thing like the inconvenience that it would pose to her. Her long brown hair was done up expertly and her clothes, accomodating for her bulging stomache, were both expensive and stylish. She was sweeping down the stairs with an ease that few women could manage at the best of times. 

All this would have made her a rare person in any circle, particularly the one she frequented. What made her unique was the she was sweeping down the stairs humming "Up On a Housetop" as her bright blue eyes scanned the foyer excitedly. 

"Out jumps good old Santa Claus!" Jerome Fletcher sang out, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her, both their hands resting protectively over her belly. Livy laughed, a gay and careless laugh that had touched many a heart. 

She turned to face her husband, still in his arms, and sang softly, "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus," her husband grinned at her. "Underneath the mistletoe last night. . ." She kissed him. "Now go get ready, I'll find Olivia." 

Jerome Fletcher's eyes sparkled as he looked down on his wife. "As you say, General!" he replied smartly, turning to head back up the stairs. He paused at the top, gazing down at her lovingly but worriedly, "General?" she turned to face him, "How's our next baby?" 

"No worse that five seconds ago, Jerome Fletcher, honestly!" she laughed up at him, shaking her head. "Stop worrying, will you? How many times has the doctor told you? There's no reason to believe the birth will be as bad as Olivia's was. And besides, wasn't she worth it the little darling?" 

"Yes, dear, you know best, dear," Mr Fletcher intoned. "No more arguments, General." 

"Don't be sarcastic when you say that, Jerome Fletcher!" she called after his retreating back, still laughing. Then she turned and continued down the stairs. "Now where, oh where can Olivia be?" she called playfully in mock wonder. 

There was an unmistakable giggle from behind the Christmas tree. "Hmmm. . ." Mrs Fletcher said, walking slowly toward. "I don't know where she could have gone!" Then, with reflexes to rival Quidditch stars, she faked going one way around the tree and caught her daughter running around the other way. "Here she is!" she cried as she closed her arms around her. 

"Are we gonna get baby now, Mummie?" the girl, who looked like a miniature version of her mother except for her hair, squealed excitedly, immediately forgetting that a moment ago she hadn't wanted to be caught. 

"No, darling, not yet," Mrs Fletcher laughed, it came to her as easily as to her six year old daughter. 

"Soon?" she demanded, her hands on her hips. 

Mrs Fletcher laughed again. "Yes, darling, soon, soon," she cooed, kneeling to look her in the eye. "But it's Christmas now and we're going to church. We need to get you ready, darling." Then Mrs Fletcher tried to stand, "tried" being the opporative word. Crying out in pain, she collapsed back down. 

"Mummie! Are you hurt?" the girl cried, obviously distressed. "Did you get a bubu? Want me to kiss and make it better?" 

"No, darling, go get your father, hurry," Mrs Olivia Fletcher said, biting back a groan until her daughter was up the stairs and out of earshot. Livy had lied to her husband. Everything was not all right, but she knew that there was nothing a Muggle doctor could do for her. She had been lucky the first time. Her hands found the small six-inch stick of wood that was her beloved wand. She wondered anew if Mr Ollivander had understood all those years ago that she would someday have to hide it. He looked as if he had. But she never thought that it would be her husband that she had to hide it from. 

She had tried to tell him once. She ended up putting a memory charm on him to make him forget it, hating how it changed the way he acted around her. It was the last magic that she ever performed in his presence. She had been happy; she couldn't complain. She would have wanted to be a housewife and mother anyway. Why not do it the Muggle way? She hadn't performed a single spell in years. But when she found out she was pregnant again, she started carrying her wand with her again. She had known how dangerous it would be for both her and her son. She remembered one spell, one spell that she knew she must say when she felt that pain in her stomache, the one that meant that all was not well. It was worse than it had been with Olivia. Far worse. There was no coming back from this feeling. And what was more, Livy Fletcher knew it. 

"You'll make it, Gus, I promise you. You'll make it through. Just hold on a little longer," she whispered to her abdomen. "I love you." She took her wand in her shaking hands, a feeling of warmth spreading to the tips of her fingers just as it always had ever since she had gotten it. It was a comfort she had long forgotten, and would never feel again. _"Dio e col mio bambino per posso non,"_ she whispered, waving her wand at her belly. "Jerome!" she shouted, feeling its effects immediately. "Olivia! Come quickly!" 

Her daughter reached her first, flying down the stairs with no regard for the perils of gravity. She seemed to understand that her mother was in danger, even if she did not understand from what. Or perhaps it was the panic in her mother's voice that stirred in her small heart. "Oh, my darling," she cried, taking her child in her arms. "Oh my babies, I love you. I love you." 

Jerome Fletcher took in his wife's limp arms as they tried to reach for him and their daughter, the dullness in her sparkling eyes, and he also knew. As he knelt over her, the look in his eyes told her that he understood as much as he ever could. He bent down beside them, enfolding both his wife and his daughter into his arms, holding both of them for the last time. Ten minutes later, Mrs Olivia Fletcher was at a Muggle hospital. She never returned. The sparkle, so like the one in her daughter's eyes, went out of the gray eyes of Jerome Fletcher that day. And it never returned.

* * *

"Let go of me, Karkaroff!" Marissa shouted, shrugging him off. "Geroff!" she shouted as he grabbed her arm again. "Let go of me!" 

"Marissa Fletcher!" the last voice Marissa wanted to hear said sharply. Marissa turned to Professor McGonagall, who looked as if any moment the sparks would start to fly she was so furious. "Do you have any idea what it is you have done?" she said, looking at her in disbelief, staring her down. Marissa wished she could be more composed, but Karkaroff had her arm in a vice-like grip and was holding it up higher than she would have liked, forcing her into an awkward posture. 

"Now really, Karkaroff, there's no need for that," Remus said, striding quickly forward. "Let her go." 

"Mr Lupin!" Professor McGonagall cried sharply. Karkaroff had no sooner smirked at him than she shouted, "Mr Karkaroff, both of you!" They turned sharply to face her. Marissa was staring down at the ground. "Leave us. Miss Fletcher and I have much to discuss." 

Marissa jerked her arm out of Karkaroff's grasp, glaring at him momentarily before sitting down in the chair in McGonagall's office. The moment the door closed behind the two boys, McGonagall snapped, "On your feet." 

Marissa stood without protest, not looking up. "Look at me," she said forcefully. Marissa did not look up immediately. "Look at me," she said angrily. Marissa met her eyes. "I want to hear from you." There was silence for a moment. "I want to hear from the girl I made prefect of Gryffindor House that she not only broke fifty of the most sacred school rules, but that she broke Wizard and Muggle Law!" 

"Professor McGonagall I - " Marissa started, bowing her head again. 

"I don't want to hear a word of excuses! Do you have any idea what you did to your father?" Marissa's head jerked up. "Oh, didn't you think what this little game you and your brother were playing would do to him? He's been worried sick, calling policemen and offering rewards! He's contacted Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic asking for help because of your status! The man who raised you, Marissa, is this how you repay him?" 

"He. . .he was looking for Gus?" Marissa's tentative voice said softly. 

"Yes, you ungrateful little - how could you do this? How could you, Marissa?" McGonagall yelled at her. "A model student for five years! A prefect! You were so responsible! I never dreamed you would do anything so stupid and selfish and utterly irresponsible!" 

"I believe that's quite enough, Minerva," Dumbledore said, entering the classroom. Marissa, who had been hanging her head under Professor McGonagall's fire, felt like she wanted to sink through the ground. Tears were stinging at her eyes. "Come with me, Miss Fletcher. There's someone in my office with whom it's high time you spoke." 

Staring glumly at her feet, trying desperately not to cry, Marissa shuffled after Dumbledore feeling like a prisoner on her way to execution. It was a very long walk to Dumbledore's office, and both were silent the entire way as their footsteps echoed loudly and sinisterly in the empty corridors. 

Dumbledore hadn't so much as looked at her since he came to get her in McGonagall's office. His silence was worse than McGonagall's screaming. Worst of all, he whispered his password to the gargoyle, as if to indicate that she would not long be a prefect with that privilege. 

They rode up the winding staircase in silence, but just before they reached the door he turned to look at her. This was worse than anything yet, even the thought of Gus going back to _him._ He looked down at her for a long moment until Marissa was sure that he was going to say something. Instead, he just opened the door to his office and waved her inside. 

"Have a seat, Miss Fletcher," Dumbledore said, not unkindly. However, there was a disappointed tone in his voice that was far worse. Marissa did so, willing herself to sit up straight and not hang her head. Dumbledore sat down in his chair and turned to regard the young woman before him. There was no doubt that she was different from any other that he had ever seen in this office, or even this school. Even her mother. Dumbledore remembered her mother; she had Marissa's hopefulness without her burdens. Even so, the laughing eyes of Olivia Nelson were unmistakable in her daughter. 

They were looking back at him almost proudly, forgetting the shame that she had worn on her face a moment ago. Marissa was the sort who could be strong for others sooner than she could be strong for herself. She was one girl that Dumbledore most wanted to believe would never do something like this unless there was some colossal misunderstanding. And, from his conversation with Jerome Fletcher, there probably had been. "Yestereday afternoon," he began sternly, "you brought a very strange patient to Madam Pomfrey." 

"Gus isn't strange," Marissa said automatically. 

"So I do not miss my guess," Dumbledore said quietly. "We have all been quite preoccupied about the whereabouts of your brother. 

"Yet none of you thought to tell me he was missing," Marissa said angrily, knowing it was insane to be upset about that. 

Unless she was much mistaken, some of the twinkle was back (briefly) in Dumbledore's eyes at her comment. "Your father was of the opinion that Gus's well-being was of little matter to you, the same opinion that you appear to have of him," Dumbledore said calmly. "But you have both proved eachother wrong, you see?" 

"No," Marissa said harshly. "With all due respect, Professor, all this proves is that my father cares about what it would look like if he didn't look for his son. I know you like to think the best of people, but - " 

"I have known you to be guilty of this same fault and virtue, Miss Fletcher," Dumbledore said pointedly. "But now you have given up hope on the one person that I most hoped you would find it in your heart to trust. Tell me, did you father ever harm you or Mundungus?" 

"Not physically, if that's what you mean," Marissa said regretfully. "He didn't have to," she added quickly as if this would make it more believable. 

"I see. So there was never any physical abuse of you or your brother?" Dumbledore asked, momentarily sounding like an inquisitor rather than a kindly headmaster. 

"No, Professor, he never hit us," Marissa said quietly and quickly as if this would make it less noticeable. 

"I see," Dumbledore said again, "In that case, neither of you have grounds to appeal to Hogwarts as a Haven. I'm afraid under wizarding law he has committed no abuse, certainly not to the extent that your brother would have to be removed. As such, I'm afraid that your brother cannot remain at Hogwarts." 

"I understand, Professor," Marissa replied in a very different voice, a strong one. She stood, "I thank you for all your kindess over the years. I doubt that I'll be seeing you again after we've left the school." 

"Sit down, Miss Fletcher," he said, his voice low but quite serious. 

"Goodbye Professor Dumbledore," Marissa said, extending her wand to the wizard. 

"Sit down, Miss Fletcher," he repeated, and this time his voice held anger. Marissa, seeing that he was not going to take her wand, dropped it onto the floor of his office and walked to the door. The moment she put her hand on the knob, however, she lept back with a cry of surprise and pain. The next moment her wand rose off the floor and hovered near her chair as if waiting. Marissa looked back at Dumbledore who was regarding her calmly. Apparently, wandless magic did not require great emotion from him. Or perhaps he was very angry indeed about her decision. "Have a seat, Miss Fletcher." 

For almost a full minute, they stared each other down, Marissa all but glaring at him and Dumbledore looking back calmly. Then Marissa walked slowly back to the chair in front of his desk and threw herself down into it. She looked at the wand for a very long moment, then looked at Dumbledore without taking it. It remained there in midair, both apparently determined to ignore it for the present. "You can't stop me from leaving Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore." 

"Perhaps not, but I can prevent you from taking a minor child with you. In fact, as a minor yourself you have no claim to Mundungus or emancipation from your father at all, particularly if you cannot prove your father unfit which, without proof of abuse, will be quite nearly impossible. I'm afraid, Miss Fletcher, that if you leave Hogwarts, you will leave it alone." 

Marissa stared at Dumbledore for the first time in real anger. Dumbledore calmly met her eyes. "I won't leave Gus to that man," she said through clenched teeth. 

"It is very lucky, Miss Fletcher, that you are still a student of my school, for I am afraid that you have much to learn," Dumbledore said with infuriating calm. "As I told you in Professor McGonagall's office, there is someone with whom you have not truly spoken in many years. He is here today and wishes to speak with you about Mundungus's welfare when he returns to his house." 

"I don't want to hear what he has to say," Marissa said hostilely. 

"I suggest that you do anyway, Miss Fletcher," Dumbledore countered. "Sometimes the things we do not want turn out to be for the best. And as I hope I have made clear, you have no choice in the matter of where Mundungus is to live. As such I thought you would appreciate any and all insights into what is in store for your brother." 

Marissa glared at him for a moment, then snatched her wand out of the air and jabbed it forcefully into her pocket. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the carpet. "I appreciate your open-mindedness, Olivia." 

Marissa jerked her head upward, staring at Dumbledore in shock. "Do you remember when you were called by that name?" another man's voice came from behind her. Marissa refused to look. Dumbledore acknowledged him and waved his wand to create a second chair for him next to his daughter. "It's probably a vague memory to you now." 

"Why would it be? Mum's not a vague memory," Marissa said tightly, staring pointedly at the corner of Dumbledore's desk. 

"Not for me either," Jerome Fletcher said softly. "You're not still mad about the name, are you?" 

"Why would I be?" Marissa asked sarcastically. "First I lost my mother. Then my father. Then, just to add insult to injury, I lose my name too. I'm left to raise my new baby brother myself while struggling with confusion for who I am now. But why would I be angry about that?" 

"We named you for her. Don't you understand? I couldn't bear to call you by her name." 

"You couldn't bear to call me by my name? You called her General!" Marissa said, at last turning to look at him in her anger. "Or did you think that I forgot that? And your mother is dead; why can you bear for me to go by her name?" 

"Ol - Oliv. . ." Mr Fletcher tried to call her. 

"Oh don't strain yourself," she snapped at him. "Marissa's who I am now. You know, it even fits. I was a different person before she died and so were you." 

"You're right, Marissa," Mr Fletcher said quietly. "Everything would have been different if she had lived. You're right to say you lost your father too. She was the most wonderful mother. It was like I told myself, 'No matter what I do, you got the shaft when it came to parents.' It's how I justified pulling away from you and Mundungus. But even if I were father of the year it wouldn't have been what you should have had, what you would have had if she hadn't died." 

"That's no excuse," Marissa muttered. "There's no excuse for what you did." 

"Marissa - " 

"NO!" she shouted, turning back to stare at him as she cried, "I could ascribe changing my name and even Gus's birthday to eccentric grieving, but to turn away from us! You _abandoned_ us! You left me, at six years old, with nobody! Nobody but a baby that nobody seemed to want to be around - just like me! Everyone saying that Mum died to have Gus, everyone going on and on about it until I wanted to scream that it wasn't his fault! I wanted to scream it at her friends, and the priests at her funeral, but mostly I wanted to scream it at you! Now, years later you take every chance you get to tear us down, to try and make us feel as badly as you do. Well guess what? I already do! Miracle of miracles, Gus and I actually made it; we had half a shot at being halfway normal, then you come along and ruin it again because you don't seem to think we're in proper mourning. Well I have news for you, I miss her too!" Marissa was crying as she spoke now. "You're not the only one who loved her. And that's no excuse. I was six and I handled it better than you, but that doesn't mean I didn't suffer without Mum there. I did your work for you. I even got to the point where I didn't mind it. I didn't want you to thank me. But to turn on me? To tear down Gus and me to make you feel more righteous? There is no excuse for that." 

The truly shocking thing about her outburst was not seeing the ever-giddy Marissa Fletcher angry and crying from sadness in turn, it was that Jerome Fletcher was silenced. It was a very long moment of silence. Fawkes, apparently disliking the tension, shuffled nervously back and forth on his perch. "I deserved this, Marissa," Mr Fletcher said quietly after a long moment. "I deserved every minute of what you've put me through this past month. In fact, I'm glad you did it. It's made me realize how much I do care about Mundungus, and more than that, it's made me realize that I haven't shown it in years, if I ever did. You were more alone than an orphan. You lost me, but you didn't get anyone else to come take care of you in my place. You don't know how proud I am of you for being there for Mundungus the way you have all his life. I can't make up for that, not with you, not you whom I left alone without even your name. I can't make that up to you, but please, please I'd like a chance to make it up to Mundungus." Marissa looked up at him for the first time with a different emotion than anger. "Please, Marissa, I want to make it up to my son. I know that it won't be easy. I won't become a great dad overnight. But this Easter and then later this summer you could help me. Until then I could try. Please, Marissa, give me another chance to be a father to my son. I know I don't deserve it, but I couldn't bear to lose him as I've lost you." 

Marissa looked at him for a moment, then turned to Dumbledore, "I assume you already know where he is." 

"Yes, but I'd prefer it if you got him," Dumbledore replied. 

There was a slight pause. "Okay." 

Jerome Fletcher stared at his daughter. "Really, Riss? You'll give me your blessing to try to raise him?" 

Marissa stood before she looked over at him, "Okay." 

Marissa turned to walk out of the office. She twirled on her heel, "You'll let me out this time, Professor?" 

Dumbledore smiled at her. "Okay." 

"Okay," Marissa replied. 

She opened the door. "I do love the two of you, Marissa," Jerome Fletcher told her back. 

"Okay," she said without turning.

* * *

Marissa folded Mundungus into her arms, holding him close almost fearfully. "I love you, Gus," she whispered in his ear before releasing him. She looked up into the eyes of her father standing just off to the side, "Take good care of him." It was both a warning and a plea and also, somehow, a declaration of her faith in him. 

Father and daughter exchanged no further words, and Mundungus was too worried to be his normal talkative self. He was rather thrown by the abrupt change in both his father and Marissa (though admittedly his father could have been changing over the course of a month). He barely heard Marissa's nervous voice as she prattled on about nothing; she seemed to be saying, "I'll ship you some of our enchiladas by owl post," or something just as unimportant to him. What did he care? Did she think he wouldn't hurl the enchiladas that had ended his stay at Hogwarts out the window? Or better yet as his father whom he did not believe had changed for good? 

Unwilling to look at either of them, Mundungus glanced up at the aged man standing just off to the side. His blue eyes were fixed on Mundungus, looking as if he understood what he was thinking. Marissa seemed to have great respect for him, her eyes darting to his face every so often as if for approval. Was that man the reason that Mundungus was going home with his father instead of staying with Marissa like she promised? Or was he just the reason that Marissa was suddenly okay with it? Or was it all a front? Was she planning some grand escape to come and resuce him? Surely that was the only reasonable explanation that she was allowing him to go so quietly. How soon would he be back at Hogwarts? How soon would everything be right again? 

But would his father look for him again? That was the real question. He had already convinced himself that Marissa would try to rescue him. But would she be able to? Would she risk it if she knew that, or even just thought that, their father would look for him again? Why had his father done that in the first place anyway? 

And why did that old man have to keep looking at him like that? 

Then his father's hand was on his shoulder, and he was being led away to a horseless carriage that would take him to the train station he had seen only a month earlier and ultimately to the home he had half-hoped he would never have to see again. He turned to watch as Marissa's worried face grew slowly smaller and smaller, then too blurred to read. 

Marissa watched until the carriage was through the gates, squinting for it until it was around the bend. She watched the last spot that it had been visible for a long moment, "Will he ever forgive me?" she wondered aloud, "For giving him to a man that I fear?" 

"I would not ask this of you if I thought your fear justified," Professor Dumbledore replied quietly. "In your brother's case, I truly believe your father means to change. I have always believed in second chances and so, Miss Fletcher, have you." 

Marissa, at long last, pried her eyes away from the last spot the carriage had been visible and turned to the Headmaster, "He doesn't deserve a second chance," she said softly. "He hasn't earned this kind of trust. But he gets it because if he isn't lying than he's what's best for Mundungus." 

Dumbledore merely looked at her for a moment, then he said quietly, "I did not think that you would give me cause to be proud of you today, Miss Fletcher."

* * *

Professor McGonagall was not proud. That was likely calling a dragon a salamander. She was staring at Marissa with fire in her eyes. Marissa usually found it difficult to think of her short, no-nonsense Transfiguration teacher as a formidable witch (not least because the word still carried some Muggle conotation with her). However, she looked it now. It was definitely easy to see the power that had led her to become one of the youngest animagi in history when she was looking at her with her lips pressed so tightly together they were practically invisible and giving off the aura of being on the verge of making something explode, and not entirely by accident either. 

"Miss Fletcher," she said quietly as if she were afraid if she spoke any louder she would be screaming. "I never would have expected it from you." Marissa closed her eyes but managed to stay standing. "It was my intention to strip you of your prefect's badge," she said harshly, risking a little more volume. "However, Professor Dumbledore insists that you remain Gryffindor's prefect. I would like to add that you had a good chance of being Head Girl here, Miss Fletcher, if your potions work improved. I would never have believed it of you. You will be handling all prefect-assigned detentions for the remainder of the year," McGonagall continued, "And one hundred points from Gryffindor." 

Marissa's eyes flew open and a gasp escaped her lips. "However," Profesor McGonagall said tightly, "this would automatically remove you from prefect status and Professor Dumbledore has insisted that that not happen. Therefore, I decided to lower the deduction to 75, allowing that, if you and Mr Lupin incured no further infractions your joint prefect status could be maintained. On reflection, however, I deemed that this was unfair to Mr Lupin who, though well meaning, does at times lose points. Therefore, I lowered the amount to fifty and placed the restriction against losing any further points solely on you. Even Professor Dumbledore does not forbid my placing you on probation and making your badge conditional. At the prefects meeting on Monday night I will announce that whenever they assign a detention they are to come to you about the date and time. You may go." 

Marissa had never bolted out of McGonagall's office so fast. She leaned up against the wall once out of it and let out a long breath. She understood and appreciated McGonagall's kindness in telling her about her original intentions before announcing the final figure. Fifty didn't look quite so bad after a hundred. However, Gryffindor would never know that it was almost a hundred. And fifty points in one shot (almost the worth of a Quidditch match) was enough to drop them out of their comfortable first place. In fact, they were now third, she realized. She had the feeling that this was going to be a very long year. 

Then all thoughts of points were gone when she realized just how long of a year it would be. It was only a few days into February now, she wouldn't see Mundungus for five months. She wouldn't be able to make sure that he was okay every day for five long months. She had given him to a man she still wasn't fully sure that she believe for five months where she wouldn't be able to touch him. Dumbledore would make sure of that, even if he still wanted her to be a prefect. 

Marissa put her hand over her eyes, letting her shoulders slump. She was tired, something that she hadn't permitted herself to acknowledge for years. She didn't mean physically tired although she had gotten almost no sleep last night and had had a very trying day. It was years of weariness that she suddenly felt unable to repress any longer. Marissa never admitted it to herself, but she was tired. Tired of playing her mother's role. 

She felt tears stinging at her eyes and couldn't blink them back because she had been fighting them for too long. She had been fighting the chant that was ringing in her head for nine years. She had fought it because she believed that to wish something was to hope that it came true, and she knew that her wish was hopeless. She had known it even at the tender age of six, but she could not fight the longing any more. Sobs rose in her throat not for the loss of her brother, but for the loss of her mother all those years ago. She knew it was childish, but the only voice she could find was the wail of a six year old who had lost her mother. 

She kept thinking the mostly irrational idea that her mother would have known better what to do and the not so irrational idea that if her mother had been there everything would have been better. If her mother had been there everything wouldn't be such a frightful mess. _Mum, if you were still here everything would be all right._ Maybe she was like her mother to everyone else, but Marissa did not feel like she had her with her. She just felt alone. 

Marissa did not even hear the footsteps in the echoing corridor. Not until she felt small, delicate hands grip her shoulder did she glance up. It was the only time that she had ever been disappointed to see Lily's face, but she had for half a moment truly believed that it was her mother come to give her comfort. Lily immediately pulled her best friend to her when she saw the tears pouring down her face and began to rock her back and forth slowly in an attempt to comfort her. "I wasn't ready to be a mother, Lily," Marissa choked out, trying not to sob but that only seemed to make it worse. "I shouldn't have - shouldn't have had to be a mother at six! I just want - I just want to go back in time and do my life over again! I just want her to not have died. I just want my mother to not have died." 

"I'm sorry, Riss. I'm so sorry," Lily whispered, feeling her slowly begin to quiet. 

"Well, if it's any consolation, you can have my mother," Sirius said with a feeble smirk as he led the Marauders en masse toward the two girls. Lily shot him a warning look, but Marissa began to laugh through her tears and pulled away enough to swipe at her tears before the boys saw them, for all the world as if that was what mattered. The boys ranged around the two girls, all looking (for once in their lives) humble and shame-faced at all that they had put her through. 

Just when it appeared that they were about to say what they had all been wanting to, Marissa cut them off, "Please, please let's just do the whole apologies later, I'm not up for it right now. I know I owe you one, but I can't right now." 

Remus started to protest that she didn't have near as much to apologize for as they did when Lily elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up. After that, Marissa gave what was partly a laugh but mostly a sob and one gigantic group hug resulted. What McGonagall thought when, a few seconds later, she came out of her office to see all six fifth year Gryffindors holding the crying Marissa none of them could say, for they never saw her pass. 

It was a little easier to guess what the other witness to the scene thought of the Gryffindor Group Hug. He waited until Lily had hurried a red-eyed but calmer Marissa towards the prefect's bathroom to get cleaned up, then announced his presence to the still oblivious boys. "So, what'd you say to get the mudblood crying?" Severus Snape drawled, leaning up against the wall with a heavy book with a frightful looking stain on it still half open in his hands. 

The boys whirled so fast they nearly spun too far. "Which one are you after now, Potter? You can keep dabbling in the mudbloods all you like, but just let me tell you now, you'll never find one with blood as filthy as yours," Severus spat. 

All four Marauders drew their wands but Snape (who had been ready after all) was quicker on the draw. As none of them where particularly keen on geting into a duel right in front of McGonagall's office (and the Gryffindors believed her to still be inside it), they reached an uncomfortable stalemate as they stared at eachother with their wands out. This allowed Snape to continue taunting them as before, "Or won't even a mudblood have you, Potter?" 

"Don't call her that!" James shouted, it burst out of his tightly clenched lips with too much force to keep his voice down. 

"Which one? The redheaded tart? Or the self-righteous prefect?" Snape sneered. 

With that, two pureblooded boys promptly forgot that they were wizards, forgot that they were standing directly outside of Professor McGonagall's office, forgot everything but the raw need to punch the living daylights out of each other.

* * *

"All right, I'm officially jealous of you for being a prefect," Lily announced when she saw the prefect's bathroom. Marissa tried to smile but couldn't hold it in place for very long. Luckily Lily was still gaping around at the marble sinks and the Olympic swimming pool bath tub. "And you only have to share this with twelve other people?" 

"Eleven if Alice or Stacy makes Head Girl next year," Marissa replied with a smirk. "Oh buck up, Lils, you'll be in here before long." 

"You said I'd make prefect too, you know," Lily replied, taking her eyes off the marble sculpture of the cherub with difficulty. "And I think you'll beat me out for Head Girl as well." 

"Lily, even if our grades were the same, which they are not, the last time I checked Arithmancy was weighted higher than Divination," Marissa replied, applying fresh make-up where her tears had washed it off. "Especially the way that Galda teaches it. We spend more time in that class just sitting and drinking tea 'waiting for inspiration to come to us.' " Marissa said the last part in a misty voice with a heavy Gaillec accent. She chuckled to herself as she applied the last dab and spun about in her chair for Lily to approve her work. 

Lily immediately rushed over and began to expertly correct Marissa's attempt at beauty. After a moment, considerably less time than it usually took, she took out her wand and murmured a useful little spell that Marissa had found that would hold your make-up in place for twelve hours without smudging. Marissa was always a little nervous about asking Lily to do the spell but didn't want to make her feel bad about her mental block about Charms. It was a new phobia, truthfully. She used to get along all right in the class, but then she and James used to help eachother out in Charms and Transfiguration respectively. Since the schism both had been having an increasingly hard time in their worst subject. They had gotten too used to leaning on eachother. 

"So, do you think the boys have really forgiven me?" Marissa asked when Lily proclaimed her as good as new. 

"Riss, how many times must I ask you not to ask me to fathom the minds of boys?" Lily laughed. "But if you really want to make it up to them. . ." she had a mischievious smile on her face, "They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomache."

* * *

"James! Sirius! NO!" Marissa was shouting an hour later. "I've saving that tray to send to the Boneses! You've already eaten the ones I was going to send to Mundungus! By the beard of Merlin, I made so many! Are your appetites insatiable?" Although she was yelling and quite obviously cross, it was clear to all that she was not really angry, merely frustrated with the pair of them. "Remus! Peter! Can't you restrain them? They're eating like animals!" 

For some reason, all the boys jumped. "Oh don't tell me you've never heard it before. Those house elves in the kitchen must mutter it under their breath about you lot all the time. Or do you bother to listen to them?" 

"We not eavesdroppers in the business of finding out secrets, Marissa," James said mildly, but everyone knew that he was referring to her knowledge of their closest guarded ones. In truth, that was the only reason that her quite harmless comment had alarmed them; they had been searching so hard for any sign of whether she knew their main secret. 

"With that Cloak, James Potter?" Lily said dryly, almost hostilely. "You really are thick if you think we're going to swallow that." 

"I'm not asking you to swallow anything. Just believe me," James snapped irritably. 

Remus chortled, realizing that his friend had been caught in the snares of Muggle terminology. Marissa, however, quickly moved to restrain Lily before she could think of doing anything out of anger. "Lils, do you think you could help me get this package off? James, Sirius, will you call your owls for me?" As the four set about their tasks, comfortable conversation once again resumed in the room that, for the past hour, had been so full of good cheer. 

After all the packages had been sent off, the boys all began to file out the door. "Just where do you think you're going before the washing up is done?" Lily demanded, making them stop at the door. 

"Lily," Sirius said carefully, glancing at his fellow Marauders for help, "Just trust me, we really need to be going." 

Lily's eyes flashed dangerous, "Why?" she said tightly. 

"Oh bother, Lils," Marissa cut in, "Do you really want the _Marauders_ to help clean up the fragile dishes? Just go boys." 

The four immediately fled without another word. Lily turned on her the moment they were gone, "Riss, just because you want them to like you again does not mean that you need to let them walk all over you. There is no reason on or under this earth that they can't help us pack up everything to take back to Gryffindor Tower." 

"Just let it be, Lils," Marissa replied. "You can leave if you want." 

Lily sniffed. "I have some manners," she replied. 

"Just not very good ones," Marissa smirked at her. 

"Riss!" Lily shouted in complaint, throwing a nearby napkin at her. Marissa laughed and grabbed the two plates nearest her. However, she stayed in the kitchen washing them after that, and Lily finished clearing the table. When Lily brought the last dish in, the platter for the Spanish rice side dish they had made that morning, she saw Marissa scrubbing one of the plates so furiously that she was alarmed. She never thought that the way someone was washing a dish would frighten her, but just then it did. "You know," she said gently, setting down the platter carefully, "It occurs to me that we don't really have to do the dishes." 

"And leave them for the house elves?" Marissa all but snapped. 

Lily nearly jumped, it was so odd to hear such blunt annoyance in Marissa's voice. "No, I was just thinking that this room would probably do them for us if we walked back and forth, how many times was it?" Marissa did not answer or stop swatting at the plate she was holding with a dishtowel. Lily reached to take the plate from her, "Marissa, you don't have to - " 

"Just leave me be Lily!" she shouted, jerking it back and slopping a great deal of water on the floor in the process. Lily stood stock still in shock. Marissa, ignoring the soapy puddle on the floor, went back to scrubbing the dish. A moment later she said softly, "I'm sorry, Lily. I just have to do this." 

"I'll help you," Lily said softly, looking down at her feet. Marissa handed her a dish with utmost delicacy then all but tore another out of the sink and began to tear at it with the rag she was holding. 

After a moment, Marissa spoke again, "This is what I used to do," she explained softly. "After my mother died." Marissa put the dish down and reached for another, this time with much less force. Lily moved over to the side and began to dry them. "I was only six, you know. Father was ignoring me and the baby. I took care of him a lot, playing with him, but that was only good for some of the time. I was lonely, and I started hanging around the kitchens with Mavi. Father hired her when Mother got pregnant, but I don't think Mum ever let her do much while she was - around. She probably didn't let a six year old do much, but this was what I did when I was tired or angry or just sad. So now I guess whenever I feel like that I just want to cook or clean something." 

"I wonder if that's why Petunia's gotten so fussy about how orderly her room is," Lily said quietly. "Honestly, she must have gone over that thing with plastic gloves. It was spotless." 

"I think that's just a personality thing," Marissa said with a small smile that quickly faded. They finished the rest of the dishes in silence.

* * *

The next day Gryffindor was down a hundred points in the great House Race. Slytherin was down fifty, tying them for last place. The entire fifth year was in total disgrace with the rest of the house. Marissa, who was usually popular, was shunned. James had it easier. Everyone expected the Marauders to lose a ton of points. And at least he had been in an honorable fight with a Slytherin. The rest of the Marauders and Lily were given the cold shoulder for not stopping Marissa and James from getting into a fist fight and - well whatever it was that Marissa had done to lose Gryffindor all those points. 

It also hit hard that it was their own Head of House and Professor Flitwick for crying out loud who had subtracted the points. Even the boys were subdued under the glares from their housemates. McGonagall didn't seem to pity them in the least, but Flitwick appeared remorseful when he learned that Gryffindor had already lost fifty points that same day. After Charms, he pulled Marissa aside and spoke to her about it. "I was wondering," he said in his high voice, looking at her with a thoughtful expression on his face, "If you'd be interested in a special project to make up some of the house points that Gryffindor has recently lost." 

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather James?" Marissa said, looking at him in surprise. He looked at her in silence for a moment until she added, "I'll do it, of course, but he's much better than me at Charms." 

"Though it may be strictly true that his marks are slightly higher than yours in this class," Flitwick replied, "The spell I'm setting you to research is rather something that Mr Potter will never understand. You won't appreciate it fully for many years yet, let us hope that of all the girls in his school, but you will be able to get a much firmer grasp on this particular subject than either Mr Potter or myself." 

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think that could possibly be true," Marissa replied immediately. 

Flitwick chuckled. "I assure you, Miss Fletcher, that it is quite possible, as are most things. But in this case, it is not so unlikely when you learn what spell you will be researching. It is a very obscure spell. In fact, no one has used it for many many years. It's called the Midwife's Spell. You should find the research you need for your report in the library. I've been meaning to assign you this project for some time, and with Gryffindor's current fall from grace, I thought the time right." He cleared his throat. "For the maximum points you should turn it in by the end of the week." Marissa nodded, and Flitwick nodded in return. "Now, I believe you should hurry along to your next class. I daresay Gryffindor can't afford to lose any more points." 

Sirius and Remus had waited for her outside class. Or that was how it looked at first. On second glance they appeared to be conspiring. Why they would conspire without Peter and, she hated to think it but especially, James she couldn't fathom. Sirius seemed to be trying to reassure Remus about something. He was hanging his head looking more than usually despondent. Both boys' eyes were red, as if they hadn't slept all night. When they both looked up and saw her, they immediately stopped talking. As they walked down the passage, Marissa noticed that Sirius walked with a limp.

* * *

The Marauders had been suspiciously absent in the Common Room last night. Tonight Sirius was the only one there, even more conspicuous than their complete absense for two reasons. The first was that hardly anyone but whomever they were dating and sometimes not even the current "luckiest girl in Hogwarts" ever saw James and Sirius apart. The second was that Sirius was much more subdued without his best friends in toe. He even went up to bed early. 

Marissa stayed curled up in her favorite armchair until long after everyone else had gone up for the night, even the frantic fourth years who had a Potions exam tomorrow morning. She wasn't reading or studying. She was just sitting and thinking. Lily had been worried, but she was too annoyed with the boys' absense to stay still and silent enough to keep her friend company. Marissa was sitting sideways in the armchair with her legs draped over one of the arms of the chair and hugging her knees so that she was curled up towards them. 

"Now that's an interesting position," Sirius said loudly as he swaggered back down the stairs. Marissa, for once, didn't smile when she saw him. "I'm always telling James you'd make a good lay. Always say he should take his eyes off the white stag he's chasing and look at what's chasing after him." 

"Not now, Sirius," she murmured, her face still half-hidden behind her knees. "I'm not in the mood for all your sordid innuendos." 

"But that's why you were so desperate to become my friend again," Sirius replied cheekily. "For my innuendo and foreplay, that and my secrets." 

"So we are friends again?" Marissa affirmed, choosing to ignore the rest. 

"After that fabulous meal you made us?" Sirius replied. "Are you kidding me? I'd marry you after that one if you'd have me." 

Marissa smiled briefly, shaking her head. "Be serious!" 

"Why, Marissa, that's precisely who I'm being!" Sirius laughed. "Jokes and sordid innuendo are totally Sirius to me." 

"Oh Merlin!" Marissa cried, looking up to the ceiling as if for deliverance. "You'd think after five years that joke would get old!" 

"You'd think after five years you'd learn not to set me up for it," Sirius countered with a laugh. Once he had gotten a small one out of Marissa, silence descended on them. Marissa returned to staring at her knees. Even Sirius was still and almost melancholy for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was truly serious and no longer the kind of voice he used to attract the entire Common Room's attention. It was more personal and earnest, "You could have just told us, you know." 

"You think so?" Marissa replied softly. 

"We're friends, Riss. We would have helped you," Sirius replied. "You could have told us." 

"You could have told me about the Cloak," Marissa replied. Sirius started and stared at her. "We're friends, Sirius, but I'm not a Marauder." There was silence for a moment. "That's been made abundantly clear to me in the past years. And the Marauders guard their secrets." 

"Riss," Sirius said carefully. "Not all the secrets are mine to give." 

"You might have told me about the Cloak as courtesy to another prankster," Marissa countered. "And the mirrors? You didn't have to keep those a secret." 

"Obviously we didn't," Sirius replied with a slight smirk. 

"So you might as well have told me," Marissa almost laughed. "You didn't have to worry about me telling anyone. Why wouldn't you just tell me?" Sirius just looked at her for a long moment. "Like why aren't you with the rest of your little friends tonight? And what happened to your leg?" 

"Not all secrets are mine to tell, Riss," Sirius said again. 

"Yeah, I know. It's Remus's too. But you notice he's the Marauder I trust with my secrets," Marissa said, rising to her feet. "Because he trusts me with his." Sirius perked up at this, but Marissa didn't notice. "He didn't blanch when I asked for the Cloak. He tried to get you to give me the mirrors without a fuss. He at least trusts me with your precious boys club secret toys." 

She turned and walked to the stairs. "We're making a map," Sirius said suddenly. Marissa turned. "Of Hogwarts Castle and Grounds. Complete with all the secret passages that we've discovered." Marissa walked back to her armchair and sat down, this time without draping her legs over the arm of the chair. "And another little extra actually inspired by you." 

"By me?" Marissa cried in surprise. 

"By your success in eluding us," Sirius clarified. "James found a charm to put on the ink to track the wherabouts of people in the castle. Enemies, partners in crime. . .partners in - " 

"Sirius Black!" 

" - other crimes. . ." 

"You are too much, Sirius, I don't know what that fan club sees in you," she laughed. 

"So tell me truthfully, Riss, did you already know about the map?" Sirius asked shrewdly. 

"I didn't know about the tracking ink," Marissa offered him with a smirk. Sirius laughed and stood to leave. 

"What is the world coming to?" he yelled to no one in particular as he stomped up the staircases. Marissa had her first long laugh since Gus left, then turned and walked up the stairs of the Girls' Dormitory.

* * *

"So, Lils," Marissa said in a mostly-kidding voice, "Are you absolutely _sure_ that you don't want to help me with my project?" 

Lily grimaced at her. They were both sitting at a table in the back of the library surrounded by books. Or at least Lily was. Marissa had just leafed through a colossal one entitled, _Regristry of Research on Obscure Spellwork_ which listed all the references made to many (and by that it meant thousands) of obscure spells not likely to be in most mainstream studies. After an hour of searching (it had taken forty-five minutes to figure out the system of organization and fifteen minutes to thumb through all the pages that began with "Midw" words), Marissa was finally sitting with a (small) list of books and articles that mentioned the Midwife's Spell. Now all she had to do was track some of them down. 

"Riss, it's Charms," Lily said by way of refusal. 

Marissa laughed. "Why do you hate Charms so much? Didn't Mr Ollivander say your wand was supposed to be especially good at Charms?" 

"How in the world do you know that?" Lily asked in surprise, looking up from her essay on the Unforgivable Curses for the first time since they had sat down. 

Marissa rolled her eyes at her dismay, "You don't remember? Summer after third year when Sirius begged all of us to 'bump into him' and his family at Diagon Alley because he couldn't take one more minute with just Regulus and his parents, and we all ended up tromping around Madame Malkins and Flourish and Blotts with the little twirp until we finally came to Ollivanders. Took Regulus about two hours to find the right wand, plenty of time for Mr Ollivander to pedigree each of our wands in turn." Lily smiled at the memory of the seven of them crowded into Ollivander's with the boys fighting with them over being a gentleman and letting them sit in the single chair. "Come to think of it, James's was supposed to be good at Transfiguration, and he hates the subject." Lily looked over at her. "Is there something to that?" 

"I don't know, what's your wand supposed to be good at, Potions?" Lily asked with a very Marauder-like smirk on her face. 

Marissa threw her quill at her as she rose to her feet, but she was smiling. Lily was the only fifth year Gryffindor who was any good at Potions. Marissa scraped by mostly because she had Lily for a partner and in-room tutor but knew for certain that she would not be making it her life's work. Remus and Peter were both hopeless, and so of course always ended up paired together. James and Sirius might have been all right if they bothered to pay any attention to it, which of course they didn't, which of course is quite disastrous in Potions Class as they had learned (or rather failed to learn) on many occassions. It was all right though. Lily was so spectacular that she earned all the points that Gryffindor needed from Potions, even enough to make up for the points lost in James and Sirius's Great Cauldron Meltdowns. Professor Delacour, a petite french brunette who was nevertheless one of their more formiddable (if forgiving) teachers, often joked that she would be publishing a study with this title based on their mistakes in her class. 

Luckily there had been no disaster today, so Lily was in a good enough move that she just might help Marissa with some of the research once she finished her essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. In the meantime, Marissa weaved in and out of the bookshelves, finding four of the books on her list and returning to the table thinking it quite a success, even if all of them merely had small sections about the Midwife's Spell in particular. One of the books must surely have been enchanted, Marissa thought, for it reportedly listed the exact date and time that certain of the rarest spells had been performed going back centuries. Marissa was tempted to explore how this book functioned, but figured she should probably learn just what the Midwife's Spell did before she asked who did it. 

She found it in the book entitled _The Perils of Magical Childbirth_, being careful not to glance at any of the other pages once she had seen the grotesque diagram on the first page that resulted from a spell gone wrong. On page 796 it explained the charm. 

_**The Midwife's Spell** _

**Encantation:** "Dio e col mio bambino per posso non" 

**Derivation:** Italian 

**Translation:** "God be with my baby for I cannot" 

**Discovery:** 1737 in Pisa, Italy 

**Purpose:** Used in extreme cases. Unlike what is often referred to as its sister spell, the Midwife Charm, the Midwife's Spell was never widely used. It is not merely a highly dangerous spell, it is fatal. It is used in extreme cases only where neither the mother nor her child have a chance to live. In such cases, the Magical Midwife, or even the mother herself if one is not available, can cast the charm on the mother. It has never failed to allow a healthy child to be born quickly, however the cost is terrible. To save the baby's life, the spell uses a powerful old magic, the binding of a woman to her child. To save her child, the mother sacrifices her life. On two occassions (that are documented though it is believed there are no additional ones) a mother, seeing that her child will not survive the delivery, has cast the spell on herself although she herself should survive the labor. On both occassions, known birth defects expected to be in the children born were not present. In the two hundred years since its discovery, it is believed that the Spell has been cast only seven times, there being a multitude of other options for most women and children. 

Marissa gaped at the page. When she started reading it, she had been jotting down the notes on its origin and history. However, when she actually started reading its synopsis, she forgot all about her notes. She had an eerie feeling that the words on the page would never fully leave her. No wonder it had only been used seven times in the course of history! To kill yourself! Thank Merlin it wasn't a well known spell! _Still, _Marissa found herself thinking,_ if they were going to both die. . ._ She shook herself. What about the women who had chosen it without that? Who had sacrified themselves for their children? Who were they? 

Marissa had been meaning to save the list of when the spell had been performed for last, but now she grabbed at it, flipping quickly through. No wonder this book could keep track of when the charms had been performed! Seven in two hundred years! However, when she opened the book to the proper page, she saw eight listings. She checked the publish date of _The Perils of Magical Childbirth_ and discovered that the last one had been performed after 1940 and was therefore not included in the author's examples. 

Suddenly Marissa's eyes snapped back to the last date on the page. She could not say that there were any particular thoughts in her head for a very long time as she stared at it. 

"Riss? Riss?" Lily's voice sounded loud and echoing in the utter silence of her mind. "Riss, are you all right? Your eyes are bugging out. They're as big as saucers." Marissa couldn't look away. "Now there as big as platters. What's up?" 

Marissa looked up at her for a long moment, then back down at the page. Lily walked over to the other side of the table and leaned over her shoulder to read it. Marissa laid her hand on the last date and held it there as if afraid to move her hand. "December 24, 1967; Six o'clock and thirty-seven minutes in the evening; London, England," Lily read in confusion. "Riss, what - " 

But hearing the words aloud had stirred Marissa into motion. She snapped the book shut and stood so quickly Lily nearly toppled over behind her. Marissa, knocking her chair over into the already off-balance Lily, strode quickly back towards the main line of bookshelves. This time she was moving purposefully and quickly, not leisurely meandering down the aisles. After recovering her balance, Lily immediately followed Marissa, eyeing her friend with concern. She stopped so suddenly Lily almost ran into her. Marissa was getting into a bad habit of very nearly tripping her. They had stopped in the very last place that Lily had expected her to go for research. They were deep in the Memorabilia Section, the part of the library devoted to old Hogwarts yearbooks. It was also where all old Prefect Meeting minutes were doomed to end up eventually. It was a very seldomly visited shelf. 

Marissa, however, was staring at the line of yearbooks with extreme interest. Lily wasn't sure if that was the right word, but that didn't concern her at the moment as much as the look on her friend's face. It looked stricken. "Where would she be?" Lily heard her mumble as she stared at the long row of yearbooks. In a sudden burst of movement, she grabbed about a decade worth of books and pulled them all to the ground at once. Immediately she sat down on the ground and began to thumb through them. 

"Where would who be, Riss?" Lily asked worriedly. 

"My mother," Marissa said thickly. 

Lily had no earthly idea what to say to that, so she echoed her, "Your mother?" When Marissa did nothing but nod and flip through the yearbooks at a much less frantic pace, Lily sank down onto the floor next to her. "What do you mean your mother, Riss? Your mother was a Muggle." 

"No," Marissa said. "No, because if she were a Muggle she couldn't have cast that spell." 

Lily was silent for a moment. Then, "_What?_" 

"The Midwife's Spell," Marissa said utterly calmly as if she were merely thumbing through a mildly interesting photo album and hadn't been acting like she was about to have a nervous breakdown a moment before. "You saw the date, didn't you? Mundungus's birthday. She died, he lived. She collapsed as we were about to leave for Christmas Mass. It starts at seven. I think." 

"You think?" Lily repeated the only part that had made any sense to her. "Marissa," Lily pleaded, "Talk sense." Marissa didn't respond. "We celebrated your brother's birthday in January, the sixth, right? The date on that spell was Christmas Eve - " 

"Gus was born on Christmas Eve," Marissa said evenly, in a flat tone. 

"Then why - " 

"Because Father didn't like to remember the day his wife died in childbirth. Thought it bordered on sacrilege to throw a party on that day. That's why I'm so into Christmas, he didn't celebrate it either," Marissa said, still in that flat voice. "But I remember. December 24, 1967 around six thirty, my mother collapsed and, contrary to what anyone expected, gave birth to a healthy baby boy then died just when we thought she was out of danger. And she knew she was dying somehow. I still remember. . .remember her saying, 'You'll make it Gus.' But she knew she was dying." 

"Riss - " 

"Please, Lily, just humor me." Lily looked at her for a long moment, then picked up another of the yearbooks. Marissa looked up briefly at her in thanks. Lily felt as she had when she had tried to get Marissa to stop compulsively washing the dishes and decided to help her instead. 

"Just what am I looking for?" Lily asked her, opening the book to a random page. 

"Olivia Jane. . .Nelson I suppose," Marissa replied. "I think that's still her name at least." 

Lily felt vaguelly as if she should acknowledge that she understood this somehow, but wasn't sure that she did. It was just as well Marissa's cry of recognition interrupted her. Lily immediately leaned over the page. Marissa was pointing to the photograph of a young girl about sixteen or seventeen. The caption under the picture read, "Olivia Nelson." The girl in the photograph had Marissa's dancing blue eyes and was smiling up at them in a most mischievious way. Her long, rich brown hair cascaded down past her shoulders and beyond the borders of the picture. What was almost more startling was the realization that the woman had the same bone structure, nose, eyebrows, and chin as Marissa. These seemed almost more personal somehow, even though Lily had always considered her "laughing eyes" and "contagious smirk" Marissa's trademarks. 

"So she was a sixth year Ravenclaw that year," Marissa read from the top of the page. 

"Seventh years have a whole page of stats, do you want to look hers up?" Lily asked almost worriedly. "They're divided by Houses, but now that we know hers. . ." 

"Yeah," Marissa agreed, but she thumbed through to the group photographs in the same book that she was holding, obviously looking for her mother in them. Lily almost understood for the first time since they had sat down with the yearbooks: it was more real to see her in a group. A single photo could be planted, but to find a group shot that she was in. . . 

Never mind who would want to plant the photograph. Lily sighed and shifted through the books until she found the next year. 

They spent hours in that library, hardly even noticing that time was passing, particularly Marissa. They spread out all seven yearbooks before them and flipped through them, hardly speaking, getting to know Marissa's mother. Lily was looking for the answer to why she had kept it from her family. Marissa was looking for a different answer, one she thought must be here if only because she needed the answer so badly: why had she died?

* * *

When they finally closed the books, they found the library deserted. Even Madam Pince had left, either not noticing that they were there or realizing something of what it meant to them to stay. Lily suspected the former though it seemed hard to believe of the (to put it mildly) freakishly-obsessed librarian. Marissa kept the seventh year book clutched to her chest as they stole quietly out of the library, thankful that it didn't lock from the inside. It was even later than they had thought. They were long past due in the Gryffindor Common Room. Luckily, they met no one (at least visible, Lily later grumbled suspiciously when they learned that the Marauders had been out for the third night in a row) until they woke the Fat Lady and stole inside. 

Marissa had stayed with her notes and parchment down in by the fireplace in the empty Common Room (darn if it must be _very_ late). "Come on, Riss, we need sleep," Lily had tried to urge her, one foot on the stairs. 

"It's Thursday, Lily, I've still got to hand this in tomorrow," Marissa said quietly, not looking up. 

"I'll wait with you." 

Lily fell asleep sitting up in the armchair facing Marissa who wrote steadily, her hand not shaking. She woke Lily when she was finished. 

Now, she was standing in front of Professor Flitwick after Charms class. She had told Lily to go on ahead, hoping that the boys would go too. She walked up to his desk and wordlessly handed the parchment to the professor. "Oh, yes, thank you," he squeaked. Then he looked her over, the same piercing look that she was giving him. "Let us see. . .twenty-five points to Gryffindor if you've done a good job on this." 

"Professor," Marissa said softly, "You knew about my mother." 

It was not a question. "Yes, Marissa, I did," he said, his voice sounding almost sad as he shuffled the paper in his hands. "I have been meaning to assign you that task in the hopes that you would make this discovery." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Marissa asked him. 

"I wanted to be sure that you were ready," he replied. "When I heard about your - shall we call it a . . . rescue mission? - with your brother, I knew that you had been ready for some time." 

"But Professor, how could you know?" Marissa burst out. "I lived that day and even so I had to connect them by intuition. . ." 

"You know I don't play favorites among my students," he assured her. "But your mother was a prefect for my house, and she was such fun to have in class. Kept me on my toes, rather like that James friend of yours. It was in my first year of teaching too, so I grew quite attached to all of those students. Not that I care about your class any less," he assured her hurriedly yet again. "But I kept track of all of them in a way that I can't do now. Your mother in particular. When she renounced magic, I actually confronted her if you can believe I would be such an interfering clod. Said she shouldn't waste her gift. She tried to give me her wand, but I - I'm afraid to say I nearly flew into a temper at that," he said the last sentence with quite an air of nervousness about such a thing occurring. Marissa tried to stifle a giggle at the thought of Professor Flitwick being dangerously angry. "Oh, you may laugh," he said indulgently, with a smile, "But I was a champion dueler in my youth. Still quite fiesty when that happened. Anyway, I put a tracker on your mother's wand so that I would know if she was using magic. Now, don't let that out, not technically a legal thing for anyone but an Auror to do, you understand. She didn't break it for eight years, then I hear about her death. I took out the book then, to see if it could have anything to do with - oh isn't this silly? I don't even know if it was Grindewald or Voldemort I was afraid might have attacked her! What's the world coming to? - but anyway, I looked to see if she had drawn her wand in self-defense and I saw a phrase that nearly broke my heart." 

Professor Flitwick was crying. Marissa was too. "Thank you for telling me that, Professor." 

"Are you glad that you know?" he asked her, taking out a handkerchief that looked too large for him though it was probably normal-sized. 

"I don't know," Marissa said honestly. "It's - she was so noble but. . .her death caused so much pain." 

"To you," he said. "And to your father and brother." 

"Yes," Marissa said softly. 

"And what do you think of her sacrifice?" the professor asked. 

"I suppose," Marissa said after a moment's pause. "I suppose I hope that I would have done the same thing in her place." 

Professor Flitwick beamed at her. "In many ways, you have."

* * *

©KatyMulvaney4-12-04 

**Posted:** 11/26/2004 


	6. Locked Hearts

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, I think we all know who does. I also have no claim to Aretha Franklin's "Natural Woman" or "The Way You Look Tonight" or, for that matter, Sonny and Cher's "I Got You Babe." If you haven't seen _Camelot_ and don't recognize "C'est Moi" and "If Ever I Should Leave You" then shame on you. "Fly Me To the Moon" is also not mine. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Six  
Locked Hearts**

"So, where's Sirius taking you tonight?" Marissa asked, looking up from her Potions textbook gratefully. Lily was, as she put it, "making herself presentable" through a combination of both their collections of make-up and hair supplies. For only two girls, they had a full dorms worth of this necessary equipment, even if Marissa was a borderline tomboy at fourteen. Lily was easily the more glamorous one, wearing her dark red hair in long, flowing curls instead of pinning it back in a sloppy ponytail like Marissa most of the time. However, it was not merely Lily's influence that led Marissa to wear make-up and pay special attention to her school uniform. It wasn't that she didn't care, it was just that she preferred to keep her hair out of the way as much as possible. It wasn't like her hair would ever equal Lily's anyway. 

"He refuses to tell me," Lily giggled. "Normally I'd be petrified." 

"You do know it's suicide," Marissa agreed, holding her quill hopefully over the parchment as if hoping it would finish her essay on her own, "Going off alone with a Marauder to an unspecified location. And you know he's been planning this all day. He's been so distracted in class." 

"James and Sirius are always distracted in class," Lily waved this aside. 

"More than usual, I mean," Marissa clarified. "And not cutting up, either. Just sitting and thinking, almost looking like he was paying attention to the lesson. If no one called on him, that is." 

"Do you really think he's got something special planned?" Lily asked hopefully, turning around to face her friend instead of the mirror. 

"Yes, but not for tonight, silly goose," Marissa laughed. "He's probably saving all his surprises up for Valentine's Day. It's only a week away, he can't burn himself out too soon. You're lucky he's taking you out just about every night without expecting him to pull a whole fireworks display out of his sleeve every date." 

"I know," Lily sighed at her warning. "I really don't expect anything special tonight." 

"It would be more believable if you didn't say it in that dreamy voice," Marissa laughed, dropping her quill and rolling over off the bed. She came to stand behind Lily, taking the brush out of her hands and beginning to style her hair. 

"Can I help it if I love that he's a romantic?" Lily countered with a sigh. 

"Just don't ask for strawberries and champagne on school nights," Marissa said sagely. 

"I'm just happy to be with Sirius," Lily said more seriously but still in a slightly dreamy voice. "Riss, I. . .I think. . .I think I might be in love with him." 

Marissa dropped the lock of hair she had been about to pin in place. As she hastily fixed it, she asked, "Are you sure, Lils? I mean, you've only been going out for, what? Five weeks? True, it's the longest relationship Sirius has ever had and none of us expected him to make it half this far. . .but that's exactly the point. I know he's Sirius, Lils, and we all love him, but he's still - oh Lils he's still a Cassanova!" 

To Marissa's surprise, Lily snorted. "A _Cassanova?_" she sputtered. 

"I'm just saying," Marissa said pointedly. "Don't give your heart away lightly." 

"I haven't, Riss," Lily replied. "You don't give it lightly to someone like Sirius. You have to fall hard to trust him like I do. I just believe that he won't ever hurt me." 

"He said you needed to talk," Marissa said, changing the subject slightly. "On your date tonight?" 

"Yes," Lily replied with a smile. "What do you think he wants to say?" 

Marissa hung her head for a moment, supposedly examining Lily's elaborate hair style. "I haven't the slightest, Lils."

* * *

"I'm just saying picture it," Guilderoy Lockhart's voice cried excitedly at the next prefect's meeting. Usually, when the seventh year Gryffindor stood to talk everyone immediately tuned out his droning, but this was a very dangerous thing to do so close to a big holiday like Valentine's Day. "Confetti falling from the sky, cupids delivering love notes, flowers on every girls' pillow when she wakes up. It'll be a masterpeice." 

"It'll be a peice of something," Gideon snorted, unable to contain himself. Usually, at this point Lizzie would have glared at him to shut up, but she was too horrified to chastize him for his outburst. 

Lockhart either hadn't noticed (which no one would put past him) or he chose to act as if the Head Boy hadn't spoken (and chortled) at his description of his plans for Valentine's morning. 

Luckily, not everyone's comments were so ignorable. "What are you a Squib?" Karkaroff had exclaimed in frustration. "Or just an idiot?" 

"There's no need for that," Lizzie said without her usual enthusiasm. 

"You'd never know you're a pureblood, you give us all a bad name," Karkaroff plowed on ahead, not noticing the slightly-less than appreciative looks some of the half-bloods (and the two Muggle-borns) were shooting him at these comments. "It's one thing for Muggle-borns to go on and on about things that don't exist, how would they know? But this is pathetic!" 

"Just what about my plan can't you stomache?" Lockhart said icily, still smiling broadly enough to display every single tooth. 

"How about my breakfast if you have confetti falling all over it?" Karkaroff responded in a rather nasty way. "Or how about the very small fact that CUPIDS DON'T EXIST? And just who is going to pay enough for EVERY bloody - " Lizzie cleared her throat. " - every ruddy girl in the school to have a flower? Have you ever counted them all, Lockhart? And just when are we going to do all this? Surely even you've figured out by now that the rooms have safeguards on them to keep any magic from being done from the outside." 

Marissa, who had been staring down at her blank notes pad during the entire meeting, smiled briefly at that. It was a lesson that the Marauders had learned the hard way, of course. In fact, that particular innovation may have been designed with people like the Marauders in mind, no nasty tricks could be played on the dorms unless you could get inside them. They were a safe area. Remus, sitting next to her, was encouraged to see the smile, but disheartened to see it fade a moment later. She had been like that ever since Mundungus left. 

"Well do you want to head up the decorations for Valentine's day, Karkaroff, since you're such an expert in the field of flowers and candy?" Lockhart sneered. 

Karkaroff lept to his feet, but Lizzie was faster. Gideon was on his feet as well. "That's enough, both of you. Igor, sit down. Your advice is appreciated though your manner of expression leaves something to be desired. Guilderoy," he smirked at Karkaroff and simpered at Lizzie, for all the world as if he were one of her great favorites, and she had just proved it, "He's right about how unrealistic your plans are. Unless you can rethink them, I suggest we get some else to handle the Valentine's Day preparations." Just about everyone at the table had to stifle a sigh of relief. "And I'd like you all to keep in mind our first-name policy. No formality among prefects." 

"Anyone?" Gideon asked hopefully, like most others in the room shooting a look at Marissa, expecting her to be the one to rescue them from the madman. She was silent, staring down at her blank parchment as if she had not even heard. "Anyone at all?" 

"I can rethink my plans," Lockhart muttered sullenly under his breath. 

Everyone fought back their groans. Beads of sweat were forming on Gideon's forehead. He was not going to let this git pull any of his infamous stunts on his watch. "I suppose if no one else. . ." he said at last with a heavy air of despair. 

Suddenly, Marissa's voice was heard, saying softly, "Oh I don't know, Gideon. That seems a trifle unfair to poor Guilderoy. I mean, Valentine's Day is such a girl's holiday, how can we expect a boy to come up with the ideas for it?" 

She still didn't look up, but now everyone was staring at her with ill-disguised relief. They knew that Marissa Fletcher would come through and save them from Lockhart's over the top fiascos. Not because she was would do a conservative job of decorating; on the contrary, they fully (and probably accurately) expected Marissa to go over the top in her preparations, but at least her most outrageous ideas would have some class. There was always a method to Marissa's madness. Lockhart was just plain loony. "Are you volunteering?" 

"I'll need some help," Marissa said in a monotone. "But sure." 

"Why do I get the idea we just went out of the frying pan and into the fire?" Lizzie Walker laughed, receiving mute stares from the assemblage of bewildered purebloods and continued silence from Marissa. Not one to be abashed by this, she continued gaily, "Just make sure you don't give us singing telegrams, and I'll be happy." 

Unless Remus Lupin was very much mistaken, he saw the shadow of a twinkle in Marissa's eye.

* * *

"Hey! Riss! Wait up!" Remus shouted, running down the corridor to catch up with her. "Riss," he said when he caught up, "I was thinking, you can't be planning to organize Valentine's Day by yourself, and as I'm sure you're going to pull off something incredible, I figure I'd enjoy being a part of that." 

"What are you talking about, Remus?" Marissa asked, still walking along, clutching a book to her chest. 

"Well, you're big surprise for Valentine's Day, I'd like to help," Remus repeated, feeling more flustered this time. 

"I'm getting tired of pulling rabbits out of a hat every day of the year," Marissa all but snapped. "I just took the assignment to keep it away from Lockhart. Isn't that enough for you people? What is you want from me?" 

"Riss..." it occured to Remus that he had nothing to say. He had never heard Marissa talk like that. He stopped short, staring after her. 

Marissa didn't stop to wait for him or glance back to see if he was still behind her. Remus stood still as he watched her back recede. 

"Don't be too hard on her," Lily's voice came from behind him, startling him. Her words startled him as well. He had never said a word against Marissa, although he rather felt like it now. "Whatever you may be thinking, you don't know. Try to forgive her words, or better yet just forget them, she's not herself." 

"She'll see her brother again," Remus said confusedly and almost hostilely. "And her mother's not any more dead than she was before. In fact, her death is more noble. I don't understand why she's acting like this." 

"You don't understand," Lily agreed. "I don't either." 

"I know, I mean, how many times has she told - " 

"No," Lily cut him off. "I mean, you don't understand. None of us do. We couldn't. Can you even imagine what it must be like to know nothing about your mother but what the page of a yearbook can tell? To know that she lied to you, and your father too. To know that she didn't have to die, that she might not have and then everything that's wrong with her family would be all right? And then wondering if that myth she's lived her whole life is even true, wondering why her mother hid her identity from her husband, wondering what she was like, and most of all wondering why she let herself die that night that Mundungus was born. And the only thing that she has to look to for answers is - " 

"An old yearbook," Remus finished, sounding as if he had suddenly understood something. Whether or not it was how Marissa was feeling is subject to debate, but he certainly understood that it was much more complex than he had been imagining it and that his friend was suffering far worse than he had believed. 

At that moment, Remus's friend was sitting in one of the few places that she could still trust to be utterly Marauder-free, where they wouldn't think to look for her so she could be alone. At least until they finished that map. The best part was that traces of Mundungus still lingered there to comfort and (occassionally) surprise her. The rip in the quilt, the smell in the pillow, the tape player that he had left behind, throwing it aside in frustration when he realized that it didn't work properly at Hogwarts and forgetting about it. All these things soothed the wounds she re-opened afresh every time she looked at the collection of yearbooks and photographs of her mother. 

This time was different, however. She would not gaze longingly at the figure of her mother, fight tears for a long time as she read of her and finally give in, no closer to solving any of the mysteries than before. She was curled up by the window with the seventh yearbook on her lap, open to her mother's page, but her mind was filled instead with the image of Remus's shocked face. His surprise at her show of frustration lingered there, forcing her to wonder if she had changed. When Gus left, she had been heartbroken, but at least she had let the Marauders and Lily cheer her up and even sought them out for that. Now, she wanted to avoid them. She wanted to savor this pain because it was the most she had had of her mother since she was six years old. And she wanted to wallow for awhile. Marissa was tired of being the cheery one, the sunny one, the one who went about pulling sickles out of crying first- and second-years' ears and settling fights with Slytherins. She just wanted to be depressed for awhile. She was tired of looking on the bright side of everything when her optimism had failed her. What bright side was there to this? Her mother had chosen to die. She might have lived. It was possible. You could never tell. Then she might have lived, and Gus died. It was an awful choice, but her death had so rent their family. And her mother had chosen that. Probably unknowingly, but chosen it all the same. Didn't she have a right to take the pessimistic view of that? 

Her gaze slipped down onto the page with her mother's picture. Her eyes were merry and laughing. What had happened to this girl that only a few years later she would choose such a thing? Every comment from her friends, every scrap of information that Marissa could gather from the yearbooks pointed to her being a happy, hopeful person. What could have brought her to such despair that she wouldn't take a chance on life anymore? That she would so believe her child was destined to die that she would bargain her life for his? 

She read the page for what felt like the thousandth time, but found nothing new. 

**Olivia Jane Nelson  
Ravenclaw **

Born: September 3rd, 1937  
** Favorite Subject(s):** Charms, Astronomy  
** Credits:** Prefect 1951-1954, Quidditch Chaser 1950-1953, Outstanding Achievement in Charms, Meritorious Award for the Study of Ancient Runes  
** Nicknames:** Livy, Mother, Cupid  
** Best Remembered for:** Charming every couple on Valentine's Day so that the first time they kissed fireworks exploded and cherubs sung all around them.  
** Prediction for the Future:** Most likely to choose the pauper over the prince. 

Almost in frustration, she turned the page slowly, and found something she hadn't noticed before. "A Word To Posterity" was written above a small box where words were written in a loopy handwriting. Marissa read them avidly, 

_ "The only part of posterity that I have anything to say to, or indeed who would want to hear anything from me, is my future children. I won't tell them my secrets of life here, those I intend to say in person. But there is one thing that I will say because no one can ever hear it too often, even though those who live with me will probably think so after awhile: Live your life fully and completely every day. Don't waste a moment of it by being anything less that the person that you were meant to be, the person that you truly are. _

The words rang in Marissa's heart as if an answer to her questions. It was an answer, but only to her latest question that she had thought she posed only to herself. Her mother had given her the answer to that question. Must she look within herself to find the answers she sought from her mother? But that did not concern her at the moment. Her mind was filled with her mother's words, but more importantly, her heart swelled with them. She had been wasting days ever since Gus left and she uncovered her mother's secret, days that her mother had sacrificed to give her child life. Days her mother would rebuke her for letting escape from her without embracing them, embracing them as she would surely throw her arms around her mother if she ever saw her again. That was how she had to greet each day. And how? Her mother had given her that answer as well. Be the person she was when she was at her best. That was her mother's message, and it would live in her heart forever. 

She closed the book, ready to jump up and live her mother's advice. Then she opened it again to the familiar page with her mother's picture once again. Her eyes fell on the amusing and tantalizing tidbit about what probably still lived in her mother's classmates memory. She smiled genuinely and mischieviously for the first time in days. _I think I have a fitting tribute to my mother's memory. _

Lily and Remus were still talking when they saw Marissa come tearing madly up the hall, an all too familiar gleam in her eyes. Once she reached them, panting slightly from her long run, she grabbed onto Lily's arm to steady herself. "I changed my mind," she gasped. "I'll take you up on your help, Remus. I may have taken the job to get rid of Lockhart, but that doesn't mean this school deserves the best Valentine's Day yet!" 

"I have a feeling this is prefect's business, so I'll excuse myself," Lily began to slink away. 

"No," Marissa reached out to grab her arm before she was out of range. "Will you help too, Lils? I need your lovely singing voice." 

"You sing Lily?" Remus cried in surprise. 

Lily, on the other hand, was glaring threateningly at her. "Riss, you promised no more plans that involve me singing," she said in the most threatening voice that Remus had ever come out of Lily, and quite possibly out of anyone. 

"Wait a minute, what other time did she make you sing?" Remus asked in confusion. 

Marissa laughed, to her friends' mild but pleasant surprise, "Don't worry. It was memorable, but only for about five seconds before she wiped everyone's memory," she laughed again as Lily shot her yet another look. Remus's eyes bugged out a little further. "I ducked," she explained to his questioning look. "You know her aim, she didn't try again." 

"When you're quite done!" Lily cried in exasperation. Marissa made puppy-dog eyes at her, something that reminded Remus distinctly of Sirius. "All right! All right! It's too good to see that maniacal look in your eyes again!" 

"YES!" Marissa cried and, in what both considered an extreme overreaction, gave a little jump and twirled around, attracting many eyes in the corridor. "I've got to go find Lizzie." She promptly ran off in the general direction of the Head Girl. 

Lily glanced at Remus, laughing aloud at the worried look on his face when they had just a moment before been anxious that she had been morose. Remus laughed too. "It is good to see Riss like that again," he said and Lily nodded. "I just wish it didn't come at the expense of one of her _ideas._" Lily laughed again.

* * *

From that point on, it was all banners and tissue paper flowers until Lily thought she would hurl the next time she saw anything either red or pink. As all she had to do to see the Gryffindor red was look down on her sweater, this was very unfortunate. Marissa's enthusiasm, on the other hand, seemed only to grow. Remus worked with her on the Special Presentation that had been announced for V-Day and the other little extras that Marissa was planning. It had been announced to the other prefects who, almost unanimously, thought it was the kind of idea that Lockhart would have come up with. Needless to say, he volunteered. So did the rest of Marissa's house probably purely out of loyalty. Unfortunately, this caused Marissa to have to scavenge for others to fill the parts. Peter, surprisingly, took up this challenge almost immediately. As did Sirius's new girlfriend Belle Schloss. 

As for being left out of the Special Presentation, the prefects generally seemed to be of the opinion that if the Gryffindors (with the notable addition of the Head Boy) wanted to make fools of themselves, they could go for it, just count them out. The general sentiment of their houses seemed to be that if the Gryffindors (with the notable addition of the Head Boy) were cooking up something that their more dignified prefects wanted no part of, they weren't about to miss it. Whether or not it was true that Cliff Wright was far less outgoing than Remus Lupin or that Stacy Meirson was more reserved than Alice Longbottom, it was now irrefutably the impression in everyone's mind that the Gryffindor prefects were the ones who could cut lose and go through with something crazy once and awhile. Not that they didn't think it was crazy too. They thought Marissa had gone loopy, to tell the truth. But they also thought it would be fun, and there was no harm in letting your guard down occassionally. 

Those who received detentions from the other prefects (Remus and Marissa had virtually stopped assigning them) were not so happy about being put to work on her projects. She even assigned a few of them to work the curtains for the special performance. Most, however, ended up helping her fold paper-cranes in the house colors by the thousands until late at night. If it was the right kind of person, this could be fun for perhaps the first hour, but most got tired of it long before Marissa did. Eliza Lavelle, the Ravenclaw sixth year prefect, commented to Lizzie that she felt sorry for Marissa for having to worry about all the song and dance of Valentine's Day so soon after her brother left the castle. This was a gross misunderstanding of Marissa's attitude. She loved having to coordinate a million things at once, she gloried in it. 

The only real worry that she had was Sirius. Sirius Black didn't do well when he was lonely, and she suspected that he was quite acutely lonely every night that week, especially after Marissa conned James into also helping with the Special Presentation, for which they had rehearsals every night, even when Marissa had to host a detention. By Wednesday he was provoking Karkaroff repeatedly so that he would have an excuse to get Marissa to set him paper cranes in the next room over from all of the Marauders and even his girlfriend. After this hectic week dawned a bright and clear Thursday morning the thirteenth of February. 

It was a glorious day right up until the moment that Lily thundered down on Marissa as they were getting the stage set up. "I won't do it, I tell you! I refuse!" she shouted, startling Gideon Prewett so that he almost fell off the ladder nearby. "I will not sing that song with James Potter!" 

Marissa, after steadying Gideon's ladder with a flick of her wand, sighed and turned to her friend, "What'd he do now?" 

"Don't patronize me, Marissa Fletcher," Lily snapped. "I will not sing a duet with him. Find someone else." 

"Whom do you suggest, Lily?" Marissa asked her tiredly, having been up all night watching a Hufflepuff who had smarted off to Alexia Parkinson polish all the trophies in the Trophy Room because Alexia didn't think it was a fitting punishment to fold paper shapes when the crime was insubordination (to her). "And at such short notice? No, really, what did he do now?" 

"Have Remus sing his part," Lily said firmly, but it was a suggestion rather than an order, almost a plea. 

"You know that he can't," Marissa said with a sigh. "It'll give away the game too soon." 

"Then Peter," she tried, sounding more adamant to Gideon above the conversation than to Marissa who knew her so well. 

"No one would believe that Frank's a tenor," Marissa replied. Though this would not appear to be a real obstacle, Lily seemed to accept this logic as irrefutable and bit back a cry of frustration. It was at that moment that Marissa noticed Sirius out of the corner of her eye walking through the Entrance Hall (they were setting up in a side chamber but Dumbledore would magically transport it out into the Great Hall after dinner). "Believe me, it's the only way," Marissa assured her, keeping her eyes on Sirius's retreating back. "Now if you'll excuse me," she said ducking quickly out of the bedlam in the room. 

Lily's voice followed her out, growing more irate with each comment, "What about Belle singing my part?. . .Riss?. . .Don't pretend you can't hear me, Marissa Fletcher, I know how much you can hear!" But Marissa had affected not to listen to any more of her best friend's complaints and was heading up the stairs that Sirius had taken. "_Marissa!_" 

She fell into step just behind Sirius, following him wordlessly and wondering if he had noticed. He probably didn't, he was the type to say something about it. Unless he was saving it up to make a stalker joke of some kind. That would be typical Sirius. The problem was, he hadn't been typical Sirius for the past week. And despite her laments for his style of humor, Marissa missed the old Sirius. Sirius stopped quite suddenly and ducked into a room that Marissa had never thought to enter on a corridor she usually avoided. It had an unpleasant memory attached. Marissa wondered if he came here often, if that was why he had been there so quickly to rescue her that day. 

_No more thoughts of that day,_ she told herself sternly. That was the last thing that she needed at the moment. 

She followed him in tentatively. He did not look up for almost a minute. When he spoke, the sound made her jump. "Congratulations, Fletcher," he said, not looking at her. "You've found yet another secret. My private sanctum." 

"Considering you're developing a map to find out mine, I'd say we're even," Marissa replied calmly in the face of his sarcasm laced with anger. The problem was, both were very faint, almost as if he didn't have the heart to be truly offended that she had invaded his sanctuary. "Not that it was hard to do, considering all I had to do was follow you." 

"And why were you doing that?" he said rotely, as if the answer didn't really interest him but he knew the question was expected. 

"You've been uncharacteristically serious lately," she replied. 

"You've been characteristically nosy lately," he countered bitingly, seeming to get more into the spirit of the conversation at this. 

"You're being characteristically insulting," Marissa returned. "Though the degree seems greater." There was silence only for a moment before, "You play?" 

"No," Sirius shot back, "I just sit here staring at the piano." 

"Well then will you 'stare at' a peice of music for me?" Marissa asked, knowing the instant it was out of her mouth that she had taken a bit of a risk. For a moment, she was sure from the look on Sirius's face that it was going to backfire, but the moment passed and a less aggressive look came into his eyes. In fact, it was almost, if it could be believed, _vulnerable._

Wordlessly, he turned to the grand piano in the room and struck up a flowing song that Marissa had never heard before. She wondered if it was by a wizard composer or a Muggle one. Not that she was enough of a fan of classical music to be able to tell the difference. Marissa made a mental note to ask him how he had come upon this room, certain that it made a good story (and that if it didn't Sirius would change it until it did). "Such a melancholy melody," Marissa sighed, coming to stand behind him. 

"I come here when I'm in a melancholy mood," Sirius replied tersely, "For comfort." 

Marissa was silent, in case he was offended that she'd tried to talk to him while he was playing, until he finished the peice with a flourish. "Do you mind if I stay?" she asked him as he turned the page to the next song in the book. "Just to warn you I'll probably be asking nosy questions before long." 

"I'll be doing the same thing whether or not you're here," he said non-commitally, but Marissa could tell that he preferred to have her there. 

He struck the opening chords before Marissa could ask him her next question. After a few phrases, he spoke aloud, "I come up here to think. You're the first person to know about it." 

"Why did you come here today?" Marissa asked in what she hoped was a casual yet caring way that wouldn't frighten him off or make him think she wasn't willing to listen. Everything was a delicate balance in dealing with Sirius. 

"Andromeda's married. She's pregnant," Sirius said simply. 

"Andromeda, your cousin?" Marissa said in surprise. "I always liked her back when we were in first year." 

Marissa was going to continue, but Sirius said at that moment, "So did I." 

"Then why - " 

"Mum's over the moon about it for some reason, the pregnancy at least," Sirius said stiffly. "And Trix was saying something about how she's not working." 

Marissa still didn't understand, but said nothing, knowing that it would all come out in Sirius's own time. He seldom did anything according to any other schedule. "Don't you see?" he said the next moment. "She sold out. She married up well enough to please my family and then plans on doing nothing else with her life and talent than breeding more Black babies to plague the world. And she's my favorite cousin. I thought she was better than all the rest of the Black sisters. I thought she was something different. That she wouldn't do this. I know you haven't got as picturesque a family as we all assumed, Riss, but at least the ones that you thought would turn out good really did. Andie failed me. The one I thought would. . .to think I once thought that she was going to marry Ted Tonks! I was so proud of her when she ran away from home to be with him. That's when I really thought I could do it, you know? Break with my family. For good. Now, just a few years later, she's apparently dumped the Muggleborn and married pure and slimy enough to reinstate her with everyone." 

"It doesn't necessarily mean he's horrible, Sirius," Marissa said carefully. "Afterall, it doesn't sound like she wanted any of your family to come to the wedding - " 

"But she didn't send me an invitation either," Sirius countered, "And she would have if she were marrying someone like Tonks. She had to know that I would find a way to get there. But no." They were silent for a long moment, the mournful song weaving around them in an almost spellbinding way. "And I just can't help but wonder if that's what's going to happen to me. It's like this peice of music. I have to play exactly what the composer wrote, but I can interpret it how I please. But I'm still playing his music. Is that the most that I can hope for in my life? I'm just afraid that I'll be all rebel and brave and noble for awhile, but sooner or later I'll end up just like them and do something twice as slimy as before just to get them to take me back." 

"Andromeda's not you, Sirius," Marissa said quietly. "When was the last time you let them tell you what to think?" 

"That's just the thing though," Sirius said. "You remember that howler Mother sent when I started dating Lily?" 

"Vividly," Marissa replied with a shudder. 

"Then when she started writing to me after I broke up with her...I remember being so furious about her insinuations that I believed what she had said that I almost went back to Lily, and I think I would have if it hadn't been because of James in the first place," Sirius told her. "But then I thought that letting them control me by _not_ doing what they want just because they don't want it is still letting them determine the course of my life. And then there's the fact that. . .have you picked up on that fact that any relationship I've had since then that's lasted more than a week has been with a genuine-article pureblood? Look at Belle, they'd love a Schloss alliance. Would provide a connection to the Cavanols which they've been craving for generations. Had Andie all but engaged to one, or so they thought. I wonder if that's who she ended up. . ." 

"Don't make too much of whom you date, Sirius, not while you're still at Hogwarts," Marissa replied. "With a few notable exceptions, you're more learning how to date than finding a bride. And even when you do start looking in earnest, the most important thing is not to worry about what anyone, especially your family in your case, thinks whether they're thrilled or horrified. It's your life and your decision, find someone you love. Don't toss her aside for your family or to spite your family." 

"It's not Valentine's Day, yet, Fletcher," Sirius replied cheekily. "Don't use all your best lines on someone with a steady date already." 

Marissa laughed. "Very well, Sirius, but let me just say this, I have every confidence that you won't be just another one of the Blacks, even if Andie is. You're different, Sirius, and it shows." 

"I guess it just wasn't the best week for me to be on the outside looking in with all of you putting your heads that didn't have to beg the Sorting Hat to be placed in Gryffindor together on a project that I don't think my family would aprove of," Sirius said. "Not when I was already wondering how many of my choices are designed to please them, however much I may think I loathe them." 

"It's hard to loathe family, Sirius," Marissa said. "And I don't just mean it's hard to get to that point. It's hard once you're there and for the rest of your life. It doesn't just take one burst of courage to cut yourself out, it takes constant courage to stand firm against someone who knows you so well and shares your past so completely. And believing you're like them can be so easy considering you come from the same place. . .but the thing is," she said looking him directly in the eye, "You are not them. And I have a strong feeling that you never will be, Sirius Black. Where that name with pride, both parts of it. For you are not one of the Blacks anymore, you're what they all could have been but lacked the courage to be." 

"I thought Andie had courage." 

"She did once," Marissa replied. "Don't ever let yours go, she'll pay a dear price for it in the end. Worse than the price she was paying for losing her family." 

"Are you a Seeress, now, Riss?" 

"Don't tease, Sirius," Marissa replied, smacking him lightly on the arm. 

"I'm sorry, Riss, but I'm afraid it's in my blood."

* * *

That night, Marissa sat up in the Common Room beside a vast tub of paper cranes in all the House colors. She'd take them two at a time and wave her wand briefly over both of them whispering quietly enough that no one knew quite what she was saying. After she charmed them, she placed them in another tub that gradually filled as the other emptied, but so slowly that every time someone looked over there they had trouble detecting a real difference. Marissa, however, was quite cheerful about her tedious looking task. It may have been novel at first, the way that the cranes immediately flew up, locked necks as they twirled down to the table together, but it it was hard to imagine it maintaining its charm as long as the tub beside her maintained its supply of the cranes (a great many people had managed to offend prefects that week, an astounding number had had biting comments about the Special Presentation, and Marissa had been folding them diligently as well). 

"So, Riss, are you planning to tell us what you're going to do with all of these love-sick birds?" James Potter asked cheekily as he sat down at the table opposite her. "Since it's obvious you can't send them to Hiroshima's Peace Park in that condition." 

Marissa looked up in surprise, "You know about Peace Day? How?" she cried, looking at her friend in shock. 

James rolled his eyes, "Honestly, Riss. I expected it of Lily, but not of you. I can read, can't I? Or have we gotten to the point in our friendship that you doubt that as well? I know you remember everything, you make a point of pointing it out to us often enough. So did you forget that Peter gave me that book on Sadako Sasaki, the girl who tried to fold all those paper cranes to get the gods to heal her of leukaemia, or did you just think I wouldn't read it?" 

"So would you be insulted if I said I was impressed?" Marissa asked playfully, quickly charming another pair of matching paper cranes in the bright canary yellow of Hufflepuff. "Or would you take the compliment with a grain of salt?" 

"I'm afraid Lily's the only one of our number who holds herself so tightly within herself that she could build up enough pressure to turn a grain of salt into a pearl," James replied almost sadly. 

"That's sand, not salt, James," Marissa laughed. "And you're being unkind to Lily." 

"Well, isn't that the old rule turned on it's head," James replied bitterly. "I suppose she's the only one with any right to be unkind to me?" 

"Does criticizing her make you worry of her kindness?" Marissa retorted quickly, but mostly she did out of loyalty to her friend. Inwardly, she thought that James may have a point. But it would do no good to point it out to him. James Potter could be sweet and carrying when he set his mind to it. The problem came in how seldom he set his mind to it. 

"I can see that trading barbs will get us nowhere," James laughed, surprising her. She supposed she shouldn't have expected her words to suddenly penetrate his thick skull when he had already heard them so many times before. She suppressed a sigh all the same. "And you've cleverly dodged giving me the slightest hint about these little beauties," James told her with a wink. "But I assure you that I didn't come here to pry into your precious little secrets. I simply saw a damsel in distress and - " 

"You just had to rush to her rescue." 

"It would wound my honor if I did not, fair lady," James said in an exaggerated gallant voice. "I entreat thee, allow me to be of service, I shall raise my wand and vanquish the load you have taken upon yourself." 

"Be careful of your knight errant act, James," Marissa replied. "You may do it too close to a dragon one of these days." 

"I have already met the one of which you speak," James countered cheekily. "The fair flame-haired one who breathes fire upon me at my every approach." 

"And you wonder why!" Marissa cried. "I hope you've never said something like that to Lily's face!" 

"Fair damsel, allow me to assist you, I pray thee," James dodged her barb, stubbornly persisting in the act. "Per chance tell of my deeds will soften the heart of the dragon, or if not, my chivalry towards all damsels in distress shalt make me more worthy of such a fair prize as she." 

"Do you ever have any thoughts that aren't tied up in Lily? Do you ever do any kind act except for her?" Marissa asked with a sigh. 

"Thou dost me an injustice, fair damsel," James replied laughingly, choosing not to be offended by her barb. 

"Well, I wouldst be a fool to turn away the help of such a knight, even if he is a jester at heart," Marissa replied, moving the large tub of cranes so that he could reach them as well. "You'll need your wand, I assume you have it concealed in some novel and slightly alarming place?" 

"The fair lady overestimates- " 

"Okay, that needs to stop." 

"Sorry to disappoint you," James answered in his normal voice. "Milady," he couldn't stop help but add cheekily. "But it's just in my pocket." He withdrew it nonchalantly and looked up to find Marissa giving him a smile in return. "So, what's the encantation?" 

"One of my own invention," Marissa replied, "I suppose you might as well know what they're going to do. I'm charming them in pairs," she took her most recent pair in Ravenclaw blue in her hands to demonstrate, "so that couples can buy them and send messages to eachother across the Great Hall, you know, the ones in other houses. And considering we're not supposed to go off alone," she affected her best prefect's voice at this but there was a twinkle in her eye as she said it, "It would be ideal for having a private conversation in a crowded place like the Common Room or Courtyard." She tossed James one of the cranes, then brought the other gently to her lips where she whispered some words into it. 

She held out her hand again and both the crane she had whispered to and the crane in James's hand took off immediately. They flew to meet eachother, touched wings and circled for a moment as if in the joy of meeting, then turned to fly back to their respective keepers. However, while Marissa's came to rest on her shoulder and sat still, James's flew to his ear and he the next moment he heard Marissa's voice whisper, "My pets are very discreet." 

James smiled, genuinely. He caught the crane before it could return to his shoulder and whispered to it, "Your pets are clever, as is their mistress." The two cranes began their flying ritual again, and Marissa extended her hand to guide the bird to her ear, blushing slightly with the compliment when she heard the whisper. She too, caught it and whispered to it again. James, following her example, extended his hand for the crane and heard her whisper in his ear, "Pity the spell only lasts a day, charming way to communicate." 

"Secretive as well," James impishly whispered to the crane. 

After Marissa received his message, Marissa sent it back with the message, "Wonderfully so. Perfect way for me to tell you the encantation; you'll have to watch me for the wand movement. It's _De Bode Van Liefde._" 

"And how do we take it off them?" James asked aloud. Marissa almost looked startled. "For when we're not telling secrets?" 

"I'm not about to tell you _that_ one, James, if you're so adamant against secrets," Marissa laughed at him, scooping the paper crane off his shoulder, tapping it and hers with her wand while barely moving her lips, and throwing them back into the bin. James laughed at her secretiveness. 

"And you complain about our retention!" he guffawed. 

"Well you boys take it to extremes," she said with a straight face. James howled anew at her apparent hypocrisy. 

"And that little display there wasn't extreme?" James said when he had recovered somewhat. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, James," Marissa replied, plucking two cranes out of the bin and charming them deftly. 

James followed suit and they were silent except for the whispered spells for a few minutes. "So, how do you charm them to go to the right person? Do they both have to be standing there?" 

"No," Marissa replied automatically. "If she's not standing there, you can go and put it on her shoulder - " Marissa stopped. James smirked mischieviously. "Is there any point in saying not to, James?" 

"None whatsoever, milady," James replied. "Ask of me any task but that I cease to be that which I am." 

"I'd never dream of it, James," Marissa laughed. "No one who knew you would." 

"I can think of someone," James said darkly, looking up as Lily entered the Common Room looking highly excited and borderline giddy. She was scanning the crowd eagerly, looking for her best friend. Marissa looked up and saw her, cheerfully waving her over. 

As if to prove James's theory, Lily scowled when she saw the company that her best friend was keeping and instead made a beeline for the stairs. Marissa and James both sighed as they watched her head up the staircases. "You want to take that back, Riss?" James asked with his eyes downcast. 

"Not particularly, no, why?" Marissa asked as if she hadn't noticed Lily's reaction, or perhaps to indicate that it didn't change her statement. The latter was more likely, but James didn't feel like responding all the same. They worked in silence for a long while before comfortable conversation rose up between them again.

* * *

Lily pounced on Marissa the moment that she climbed her weary way up the stairs to the dorm room she and Lily shared. "Why did you do that?" she cried, looking like she had purposely put their two beds between them to keep herself from leaping across the room and strangling her best friend. "Why did you have to do that?" 

"What, Lils?" Marissa asked tiredly, having finally charmed the last of the paper cranes and feeling as if all she wanted in the world was to crawl into her bed and go to sleep before her big day tomorrow. 

"Oh don't play dumb, as if you didn't do it on purpose!" Lily cried, obviously enraged. "You had to go and try to ruin a perfectly wonderful evening!" 

"Your date went well, then?" Marissa asked dully, normally she would have perked up slightly but not when she had just spent the last few hours talking with James Potter, often about how much he adored her best friend whom she knew was out on a date. 

This was apparently Lily's opinion as well. "Yes, no thanks to your attempted sabotage in warning me it wouldn't be like Sirius's dates." 

"That was a joke! It's completely unfair to throw that in my face, I had no idea you'd react that badly!" Marissa cried in protest, sleep no longer on her mind. 

Lily had apparently decided not to acknowledge her comment, "And then to sit with James bleeding Potter for no reason at all except to try and make me think, in some desperate ploy, that I cared how he would react if I went on a date! You just couldn't accept that I don't like him and are trying to throw him at me at a time when all I wanted to do was rush over and tell you every detail-" 

"Oh for Christ's sakes, Lily Evans!" Marissa shouted over her in anger. "We've been over this before. I have absolutely no intention of ending either my friendship with you or James. If you had an actual reason why you thought he would mess up two of his best friends' happiness then I would have to choose a side, which would be yours by the way, but since you have no proof and are holding onto this grudge for the sole reason of being stubborn and pig-headed, I see no reason why I have to lose a very good friend who, by the way, was the only one of you five kind enough to help me charm the ton of paper cranes that I had to set the detentionites doing. Thank you very much." There was a long pause. "And one more thing, Lily. Did you ever consider that the fact that you reacted this way proves that you do care what James thinks of you going on a date?" Lily looked about to retort, but Marissa walked angrily over to her vanity and forcefully pulled out her make-up remover. "How was it, by the way?" she asked in an only slightly less hostile voice. 

"Wonderful," Lily said, also sounding as if she too hadn't quite let go of her hostility. An awkward silence descended on them for a moment, Lily standing in place not moving and Marissa feverishly getting ready for bed. "But you were right," she said softly. Marissa turned to look at her, "He's not Sirius." 

"There's only one," Marissa said more sympathetically, "Thank Merlin." Lily laughed slightly. A moment later, Marissa couldn't stand it anymore. She put down her brush and turned around in her seat to look directly at Lily. "You were so happy when you came into the Common Room, anyone could see that. Don't be all depressed now, not because of something that I did." 

"I know and you know it's not something you did on purpose," Lily said slowly. "I'm sorry for saying that. I know you wouldn't have put James through that, he looked so hurt when he saw me come in." 

"I wouldn't put you through it either," Marissa said softly. 

Lily shook her head. "I don't care, Riss." Just who she was trying to convince was not certain, but it was fairly clear that they were not convinced. 

"So, is he going to be your Valentine tomorrow?" Marissa asked in a more light-hearted manner. 

"Yes," Lily said, a smile gracing her face but not so broad a one as when she had entered Gryffindor Tower. 

"You're lucky, to already have a doting Valentine squared away," Marissa said with a mock-sigh at her lack of love life. 

Lily snorted. "With all the work you've done, Riss, the whole school's your Valentine tomorrow."

* * *

A violin was playing Pocabelli's Cannon. Lily groaned and rolled over in the bed almost without noticing the difference in the wake up call and pressed the snooze button on the alarm. Immediately, the violin stopped. Marissa, on the other hand, all but lept out of bed and scurried to her dressing table to grab her robes before hurrying off to the Prefect's Bathroom. Five minutes later, instead of emitting either its customary buzz or string music, the alarm clock said quite loudly in Marissa's voice, "Happy Valentine's Day!. . .Oh for goodness sake - WAAAAAKKKKKEEE UUUUUUUUUUUP!!!!" Lily sat bolt upright at the sound of her best friend's yell. A large box of chocolates fell into her lap the moment that she did. 

Lily was not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, but it didn't take her very long to determine that Marissa was not, in fact, in the room. After that, it wasn't too difficult to determine that her voice was some kind of recording as it kept repeating this same message every few minutes. Lily finally managed to turn it off. She grabbed the pair of glasses that she kept by her bedside table and looked at the small card attached to the box of chocolates, "Good morning, Lils!" was written in Marissa's large, round script. 

"Oh good morning yourself," Lily grumbled for all the world as if her friend were in the room. Lily sighed and threw back the covers, deciding that if she had to wake up at this ungodly hour to please the school authorities, waking up to chocolates being dropped into your lap wasn't a half bad way to do it. By the time she had washed up in the bathroom at the base of the Girls' side of the Tower, Lily was even awake enough to be ready for whatever Marissa had planned for breakfast that she didn't want her to miss. Or so she thought.

* * *

In the Fifth Year Dorm on the opposite side of the Tower, however, the boys did not get the benefit music as their first warning that Marissa had been tinkering with their alarm clocks. "Happy Valentine's Day boys!" they heard her chirp first thing in the morning when their alarms should have gone off. "Get up and greet the day. . .come on, don't make me. . ." As if she could see that there was no response from them, she suddenly shouted, her voice filling the room quite easily, "GET OUT OF BED YOU LAZY HEADS!" Peter and Sirius were jolted by this outburst, but James and Remus appeared unmoved (they both slept like the dead). However, something that even the nearly-dead cannot ignore is a very heavy box of chocolates being dropped on your head. This is what happened to all four of the Marauders. 

On the note were written the words, "Don't spoil your breakfasts." 

"I am now taking bets," Sirius, easily the most morning-oriented of the group, began, "On just what that crazy chick has cooked up that she's so desperate that none of us miss breakfast."

* * *

Marissa was sitting enshrined in a cloud of light pink at a small table in the center of the hall just under the staff table. All around her on the table were dozens of paired paper cranes. Canary yellow Hufflepuff cranes, midnight blue Ravenclaws, emerald green Slytherin cranes (these remained largely untouched) and ruby red Gryffindor cranes. She was selling them to couples for two sickles, leaning in close to whisper to them how to use them to send messages to eachother. When a blushing, giggling girl wasn't dragging a blushing, mortified boy up to see her, she was to be seen sitting at the table complacently humming slightly to herself. Every once and awhile she would wave her wand at a few of them, and they would leap into the air and spin around her head for awhile before she called them off. 

Lily entered at the same time as the Marauders. "She wake you guys up in a highly indecent way as well?" Lily asked them as they made their way over to her small table. 

"Dropped a big box of chocolates ontop of our heads," Peter said, smiling warily. "Hit me rather hard, I'll have a bump there." 

"Mine fell in my lap, nice and soft," Lily said in confusion. 

Remus let out a bark of laughter, "And here I thought she just didn't get the encantation quite right! She wanted to make sure we got up I guess!" 

"Why that-" Sirius began, but James elbowed him as they walked up to the table where Marissa sat smiling sweetly up at them all. "Watch it, Prongs! There are less violent ways of telling a man to stuff it," Sirius said huffily. 

"What man?" James asked innocently. 

"Oh stuff it." 

"Good morning!" Marissa trumpeted at them when she looked up and saw them. "You boys didn't ruin your breakfast, did you?" 

"That's it, we can't eat a bite now, she's obviously jinxed it somehow," Sirius said, eying her shrewdly. "The question is how. You didn't tell her the location of the kitchens, did you Moony?" Remus shook his head. "Hm, that would indicate that it was spellwork, and something she could cast if she got down here before us, which she obviously did. When did she leave the dorm, Lily? Did you see?" 

"It's a little difficult to tell, she left her voice behind. It could have been anytime I suppose," Lily answered, mimicking his tone. She ran her hand over her chin, massaging her non-existent goatee. "That gives her any amount of time, goodness knows no one else in this hall is capable of noticing what she's up to, unequipped for the challenge. You rule out help from the house elves too quickly, though, I think. Couldn't she have caught one as they were tiding up last night? Didn't she and James stay up very late? James, who went to bed first, you or Riss?" 

James jumped. Was Lily actually talking civilly to him? "Her, Lils, she followed you up about thirty minutes later," James answered. 

Lily stiffened at the nickname and turned to glare at him. James ignored her, and she eventually turned back to Marissa. James took this chance to slide one of the pairs of crimson cranes and gently set one of them on Lily's shoulder where it clashed splendidly with her hair observed by his smirking friends. James set the other crane on his shoulder, biding his time and planning his attack. Marissa, who noticed the crane on his shoulder, tried and failed to look stern to warn him off. It was all too plain that she was amused. 

"Believe me, guys, just go sit down and enjoy your breakfast," Marissa said with a smile. "Oh, and Remus, if you could take the money up to the Prefects Office after breakfast for me? It's right near the Muggle Studies Class Room if you take the back way and I'd have to trudge a mile to get there from the North Tower." 

"Sure thing, Riss," Remus replied in the same nonchalant tone while the others fretted about possible sabotages of breakfast, "How much have you made?" 

"Haven't counted, but probably about five galleons, not bad considering it cost next to nothing," Marissa replied. "That and it's bringing joy to the school." 

In all truth, the cranes could more accurately be described as bringing a great deal of confusion to the school. Yes, some couples were quite happily whispering sweet nothings in eachother's ears, quite happy with to have their private moment under the watchful eyes of the professors and the giddy eyes of their girlfriends and contemptuous eyes of their single male friends. Other couples who were in different houses were thrilled that they, for once, had the opportunity to eat their meals together (in a bizarre way). However, James was not the only one who had managed to plant a crane on an unsuspecting and quite unwilling potential Valentine. Sirius (no one wanted to know how, REALLY) had planted one on Karkaroff's girlfriend Annette and had been sending it back and forth to her with insulting comments about her boyfriend that he could not hear or respond to as the crane would niether tell him the message or take one of his angry diatribes back to the Gryffindor table. And Annette, despite being a Slytherin, was far too delicate to repeat them as Karkaroff insisted vehemently as Sirius waved cheekily at the couple. Lockhart had also managed to set a crane on his girlfriend at the Hufflepuff table, or rather former girlfriend as became abundantly clear when she started trying to swat the message bearing bird away. It flew more and more frantically around her, fretting as she continually hit it away before she had to listen to his speeches. She seemed equally unwilling to listen to Lockhart's vain groveling (Lockhart was perhaps the only person alive who could grovel vainly) or hurt the poor crane which was flying about and looking almost alive. 

After several minutes during which the crane became increasingly annoying to everyone at both tables in the vicinity, Narcissa Black snatched the crane from the air and frustratedly tore it in half. It immediately dropped to the ground and twitched almost grotesquely with its one remaining wing. A Hufflepuff first year in particular looked quite scandalized as did Lockhart's ex. Narcissa turned back around nonchalantly as the Hufflepuffs arranged an ad-hoc funeral for the former pest. 

And, of course, none of this came close to equalling Lily's reaction. The first time that James sent a message to her through the crane (no one was sure what he said for the obviuos reason that niether of them was likely to repeat it, but it wasn't hard to get a general idea), she lept to her feet in rage and began to scream at him. Or would have, if the crane hadn't been the only thing that heard her voice (and James a moment later received her shrieks full blast in his ear though he did an admirable job of not showing the strain). It was one of the stranger sights that they had ever seen, Lily red faced in rage towering over James Potter her mouth open and moving very fast, but not a sound coming out though she was breathing very hard by the end of it. No one was sure what she said, of course, but it apparently was not sufficient, for James merely calmly whispered something to the crane again and sent it to her. 

Lily threw it violently at him, but when it only returned to her, trying to deliver its message unperturbed, she turned and fled the Great Hall, the bird flapping wildly a few feet behind her. Almost everyone tried valiantly not to laugh, honestly they did. But it was no good. The sight was too ridiculous for even Marissa to hold back her chuckles. Truth be told, Lily was lucky that she left when she did. She was spared the sudden showering of confetti that fell from the ceiling of the Great Hall a moment later the instant the platters of food disappeared. Everyone was covered almost instantly in light pink hearts, much to the dismay of the more manly students and even professors. 

Marissa's life appeared to be in a near and apparent danger for a few confused minutes until the first group managed to struggle through the light pink cloud of fog and realized that once they stepped out of the Great Hall the confetti stayed behind. Argus Filch would be out for her blood until the day she graduated, but everyone else could forgive Marissa for the temporary frosting she had visited on them. The Marauders, who had stubbornly refused to eat breakfast, walked up the Marble Staircase with Marissa congratulating her on chaos that had ensued, however briefly. As they slowly splintered off, Marissa found herself walking with Sirius up to the North Tower for Divination. 

Just as the bell rang, the trap door swung open and the ladder slowly descended, making Marissa wonder if Galda (she was only called Professor MacBone by other teachers) was in the habit of levitating it down to produce a more spectacular effect or if the ladder was merely charmed to unroll slowly. If she was levitating it every time, she could save her stregnth. The manuvuer hadn't impressed them since third year. However, today things did not go as usual. Sirius, apparently feeling outdone by Marissa's pink snowstorm in the Great Hall, had directed his wand at the ladder and kept causing it to shoot violently back into the Tower Room. "Ah, looks like we can't get to Divination today! Sorry Professor!" he shouted up when her head appeared in the Trap Door for the first time in anyone's memory. 

"I sensed your presence, Mr. Black, and I do not appreciate your antics. If your aura did not clearly show how truly remorseful you are, I would be very angry indeed. Now come inside please," Galda said in an, there was no other way to put it, unearthly voice. Sirius turned to Marissa whose eyes were shining with suppressed laughter at the idea of Sirius's remorse. Sirius shrugged his good fortune that the old bat's insanity had worked in his favor. In fact, the old bat's insanity worked in Sirius's favor alarmingly often. So much so that Marissa had several times been on the verge of asking her if she wanted to join the James Potter (and unofficially Sirius Black) fan club. Each time she had decided that her aura was unlikely to be contrite enough to pacify the professor afterward. 

Though her proclamation did not chastize Sirius, it did cause him to lower his wand and allow the ladder to crash to the floor. Even so, no one was very excited about touching it considering that Sirius had not often shown consideration for who would be inconvenienced (student, ghost or professor) in his pranks and even less tendency to know when to stop one. So it was that Marissa was the first one to struggle bravely up the ladder, followed closely by Sirius Black. 

The Divination Tower was the polar opposite of the austere, almost utilitarian Astronomy Tower whose only beauty was found in the night skies that it was devoted to observing. How Professor Sinistra stood it on stormy nights Marissa didn't know, but then she was very business-like herself, a trait that had lended spice to the fanciful rumors about her late husband who had been the last Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to last more than two years. The Divination Tower Room resembled nothing so much as a crowded attic. True, it had more unbroken chairs per square feet than most attics and the tables were routinely cleared of what Galda insisted was not just junk to make a working space, but beyond the murals painted on every wall and the ceiling (which were no less that creepy as they were Tarot Cards that stared down at you ominously) the decorations of the Tower Room were haphazard at best. How Galda managed to find anything in the clutter was the only indicator of her psychic ability that she ever showed her classes. 

Marissa threw herself down into the most comfortable chair that she was allowed to sit classes in and Sirius took up residence in the one next to her. Galda stood in front of the class and rasped (as Sirius referred to her misty voice) that they would, in honor of the day, be reviewing love lines. Marissa smirked at Sirius. She couldn't wait to hear what Galda had to say about his "very divided" love line with a fascination that Marissa sometimes disrespectfully implied was her excuse for holding Sirius hand. This improper suggestion always horrified Sirius who usually prided himself on being a ladies man. 

However, her presumption wasn't precisely fair. Not considering that Sirius's love line was rather odd. It kept splintering off and at one point seemed to all but end before picking up again after a long stretch of hand. It was certainly beyond the skill of a skeptic like Marissa to read. Galda was not so disabled, she believed her sham completely, "Always seeking, never finding, chasing down one love interest after another, each as unlikely as the next, all ending in disaster all too soon," she murmured mistily running her pinky finger along the numerous branch-offs of his love line. "But there is a lingering love that you have ignored, it is always there yet you never touch it. And by the time you recognize it, it will cause you nothing but pain, for she will be with another." Now her pinky had reached the open space. "She is with you in your sorrow and despair when you have no one, she is all that remains, for she brings nothing but pain. All good times are forgotten, all pleasant memories are lost in the agony of losing her. That is all your eyes will see for many long years. When you emerge from this trial, the love you reach out for will be for friends, for family, for a son but never for a lover. She will haunt you even then when your torment is over. Her memory will chase any other from your mind." Galda looked up at Sirius almost as if surprised to see the owner of such a hand listening to her. She looked at him with sympathy. 

Sirius for a moment looked almost - serious - then he smirked at her like his normal self. Galda patted him on the back encouragingly as if secretly aware that he was only putting a good face on his obvious pain at hearing (and she obviously assumed believing) such gruesome tidings for a dismal future. She turned hurried to to Marissa who winced at the coming reprisal. She had drawn on false life and love lines when they had studied palmistry intensively (for Gadla's class) last year, but she hadn't known to do it for today. Galda was going to realize that she had faked her classic lines when she glanced down at her hands. Indeed, Galda eyes did go wide slightly before she narrowed them again on the true lines. "My dear," she began in even mistier tones than before, "You did not have to fabricate lines to make them more interesting. Yours are unusual in themselves." Marissa raised her eyebrows at Sirius upon hearing this, amused that Galda could not fathom the idea of a student's hand lines revealing that they were going to live a long full life, settle down happily and marry after a few years dating, and be while not rich reasonably prosperous. Not in her class. 

"Indeed, your lines appear at first glance quite average," she said reflectively. "However, this pattern here, your love line diverging briefly into three, meeting again at this point, suggest that you will be forced to choose between three men. All will need you, all will love you, so do not choose based on whom you think needs you, search yourself to find the one who you love. Only he will make you happy. Not that you will have long." Galda moved to her life line, tracing it in a trice. "Fuller and deeper than I have seen in many years, but also short. It appears longer at first glance, but you can see that it is broken here. That is your memory line that winds so long." Galda's eyes were actually moist when she looked up at Marissa, "You will not be with us long." 

Marissa was silent a moment after this proclamation, "Well then, I best not waste any time, eh?" 

"Riss isn't going anywhere," Sirius said almost angrily. "I don't see a break in her life line. I continues almost to the other side of her hand. Clearly she's going to live to be three-hundred and thirty-six and you just try and tell me that it's a lie!" 

Galda only looked at him pityingly for a long moment before standing and leaving their table to join another, less cursed one. "Don't let her get to you, Sirius. And don't you ever let me catch you losing your joy in life as she suggests, either." 

"You command and I shall obey, General Fletcher!" Sirius said with a salute. He never understood why Marissa tensed up and stared into space for a long moment afterward.

* * *

Lunch was an awkward affair with everyone literally waiting for the sky to start falling. When Marissa and Sirius finally made their way down from the North Tower and took their seats next to Lily and the Marauders who (minus Remus) had endured a hefty morning in Arithmancy, Lily greeted her best friend with "I hate you." Sirius blinked his surprise, but Marissa only plopped down beside her and smiled winningly. 

"For telling him how to work that crane?" she guessed, trying to suppress her laughter. 

"Well spotted," she almost snapped. "And for making it chase me all the way to the Arithmancy room! And then it swooped down on me after class where it had been waiting all period above the door frame where I couldn't see it! I've only just lost -" 

But at that moment, Lily's face contorted with fury as she saw the crane making its way after her across the Great Hall. "Can I get no peace!" she all but screamed, ducking when it approached her but unable to avoid it for long. "Here's an idea, Lils, crazy I know," Marissa said good-naturedly. "Why don't you just listen to the message so that it'll stop hounding you?" 

"Oh you'd like that wouldn't you?" Lily asked, batting the crane away distractedly and swinging her head around to keep it in her sights. "You and Potter both." 

"Actually, this is far more amusing, I was speaking for your sake, Lils," Marissa laughed, taking some potatoes onto her plate. 

"I hate you." 

"So you've said," Marissa replied cheerfully.

* * *

Head Boy and Girl had certain privileges. A free period worked into their Mondays and Fridays was one of them. Their Friday period was in the middle of the day, right after lunch so it was like having a lunch break three times as long. Except that they spent most of it in the Prefects Meeting Room planning and working on all the projects that they had to coordinate. Today, however, they were simply discussing Marissa's antics and their reception in the Great Hall. "My biggest worry is after the snowshower of confetti this morning and the wax cake-edible rose switch she pulled at lunch, no one's going to risk showing up to dinner!" Lizzie laughed. She cocked her head at her partner and said more softly, "You seemed to be in a much better mood this morning." 

"It was the sight of those cocky Slytherins who are so proud of their appearance covered from head to toe in light pink," Gideon said almost sourly. 

Lizzie was surprised. Gideon usually resented inter-House politics, and she had always been the more prejudiced Head in the past, what with Gryffindor and Slytherin's constant rivalry. But Gideon had been distant and removed around her ever since the murder of his nephew and sister-in-law. At Prefect Meetings she always marvelled at how well he was handling it, at how well he was coping and going on with his life. But around just her, he was withdrawn. Of all the prefect pairs, only Remus and Marissa were really friends before taking up their badges. As such, even though they were among the newest with working together, they had the best sense of teamwork, and not just the business-like part of it. Oh sure, Annette Penola and Igor Karkaroff were dating, but that was a rather unbalanced relationship with Karkaroff dominating Annette in an almost frightening way. Marissa and Remus were naturals at working together. That was how Lizzie and Gideon had been the first term. Before the Dark Mark was found over his family's home. Sure, she had teased him with Muggle idioms, but that only proved how well they got on. It had come as a bit of a surprise to her, actually, that it worked out so well. Afterall, she had been quite well-fitted with Frank and used to his more jovial approach to leadership. Gideon had appeared austere and overly studious at first. But they complemented eachother, and though he was slow to make them he responded well to her jokes. 

It was many a Monday and Friday, when only they of all the seventh year had a break from their studies, that they spent talking companionably instead of planning out the numerous and daunting tasks that were set before them to conquer together. They had always managed to get through them with flying colors because they worked well together afterall. What was more, Lizzie liked Gideon. She enjoyed getting his approach on all the problems, and not just because he had a knack for understanding the people that she couldn't. But ever since Christmas break and the tragedy he had suffered then, Gideon hadn't wanted to talk to her at all beyond the words they absolutely had to exchange on the projects still in motion. Lizzie had halted most of them herself. Gideon wasn't up to his normal workload. Not after Christmas. 

She had thought that Valentine's Day was doing him as much good as it had Marissa after her brother had been taken away (all the prefects had been told what offense had earned Marissa the punishment of running every detention of the next two terms). Afterall, they were talking again. Then he said something very un-Gideon-like. What had happened to her steady, fair, dependable, trusting friend? Who had often chided her for not putting faith in her fellow prefects, for doubting a professor or another student's intentions? What had happened to her better half? 

"Since when do you have a problem with the Slytherins? Since when do you generalize? Since when do you stereotype the Houses?" Lizzie cried, her voice growing increasingly upset as she continued. Not upset because these were things she didn't do herself or even things that she usually disapproved of, in all truth. But these were not things that Gideon did. Not the Gideon she knew. And she desperately missed that Gideon. 

"Since when are you all high and mighty about Inter-House Politics?" Gideon returned angrily, standing up and moving to the window to get away from her. 

She followed him, making him face her. "Since when do I have to be around you? That's your job remember? Who's going to keep me in line if you turn into a bigot too?" 

"You're just a silly girl," he said angrily, looking right at her as he spoke this time. Lizzie was struck dumb, his words hurting more than she had ever expected. "Be happy I'm not making a scene a prefects meetings, but don't you bloody well expect me to speak well of those bastards in private! Those sodding bastards who - who k-k-" He couldn't get it out. He blinked back furiously to suppress the tears but they wouldn't be stopped, and several sobs forced their way up before he could beat them down again. 

"The Slytherins aren't all Death Eaters, Gideon," Lizzie said softly but firmly, looking at him seriously in the eye and saying words she had never thought to hear come flying out of her mouth, much less mean them with such fervor, "They're not all bad. You can't turn away from a whole group of people - " 

"Why the bloody hell not? Isn't that my right? I don't denounce them in public, I don't rail at them when they act the way they do, I don't wince when they speak to me, aren't I allowed to express my true feelings when I'm alone now? What the hell do you want of me, Walker?" he hadn't called her by her last name since their first month as Heads when they were still two prefects from different houses who hadn't had much interaction with eachother. It was firmer proof of his withdrawal from her than his angry words, and she found that she could not bear it. 

Tears were springing to her eyes as well, "You can do anything you want to the bloody Slytherins, Prewett! But stop blaming yourself for what happened!" she screamed, shocking him. She shocked herself too. She silenced both of them for a long moment where he stared down at her. "You can't blame yourself, and that's what this is, you can't fool me yet Gideon Prewett." She was crying now, but yelling too, "Think what ever you want, say whatever you want to the stinking bloody Slytherins, burn their Common Room to the ground for all I care, but stop this with Anna and Jake! It is not your fault that they died and you can't blame yourself!" 

"You don't get it, do you? You're as stupid as everyone else! How can you not understand that it IS my bloody fault they died!" Gideon roared. 

"Death Eaters killed them, Gideon, so don't tell me it's your fault unless you've joined with that madman! And I know you haven't because he's out for your blood every time there's a holiday from school!" 

"DEATH EATERS KILLED THEM BECAUSE THEY COULDN'T GET TO ME!" Gideon roared over her, towering over her a full head taller. "Fabian wasn't there to protect his wife BECAUSE HE WAS TOO BUSY TRYING TO PROTECT ME! It is my BLOODY FAULT!" 

Then quite suddenly, he went from looking larger than life to looking very very small. He hunched over, his sobs overcoming him. "You didn't - you didn't see - " he choked between the sobs that tore at his throat so that he could hardly breathe. "You didn't see the look on Fabian's face when he - found - found them. Lying there. The guilt. Guilt. But it was my fault that he wasn't there. Mine. Mine. Mine." Lizzie wasn't even sure at what point in his mantra of self-blame that he had come to be in her arms, her holding him as tightly as she could, feeling herself cry earnestly as well, crying for the boy in her arms who was bearing a man's guilt for something that he should not have had to endure. 

What could Lizzie say to Gideon now to change what had happened? How he felt? Could she ever erase the terrible guilt in his heart? Or the equally terrible hate? Could she before they destroyed him? Would she even have a chance to, or would Voldemort continue to hound him? Panic seized up her chest and she began to sob harder than before. But even so she quieted long before Gideon who cried himself out on her shoulder, clinging to her as tightly as she clutched at him. When he did quiet Gideon laid his head on her shoulder as if resting there to gather his strength again to face the world. For Lizzie there was no one else in the world at that moment but this boy and his sorrow. How long they stayed like that niether of them could guess. The grey sky had opened up and begun to snow lightly, as if the sky too were finally releasing the tears that it had held. It fluttered past the window, a thing of beauty in the midst of so much suffering. "Don't cry, Lizzie," Gideon whispered hoarsely, "Please don't cry. That's worse than all the rest. That I drug you into it." 

"I can't help it, not when I see you taking such terrible burdens on yourself," Lizzie whispered, not looking at him. "They deserve your tears, but not your guilt." 

They were silent again, afraid to loosen their hold on eachother even though niether was crying any longer. Eventually then did, just enough to look at eachother. something strange happened when their tear-stained eyes met, each expressing to the other the depth of their caring. The next thing that Lizzie knew Gideon's lips were on hers and she was kissing him back. It was soft and gentle, almost timid, unlike all the other kisses she had known with her boyfriends over the years. And this one swept through her, right to an untouched place in her heart. 

She did not even notice that fireworks were literally going off all around them and cherubs were in fact singing until they broke the kiss a long moment later. When she saw she laughed out loud, running her hand lightly along Gideon's cheek in a gentle caress. 

At first Gideon smiled at her, then he suddenly stiffened, grabbing the hand and pushing it away, glaring at the fireworks display. He jerked away from her and all but ran out the door, leaving her standing alone.

* * *

Sirius had gone off, boquet of roses in hand, to celebrate the holiday with Belle. Lily was still running from the crane and angry with Marissa anyway. James was pursuing Lily and the crane, seeming far too proud of himself for the whole situation and not wanting to miss a second of how it turned out. That left Marissa to track down where Remus and Peter had gone off to, looking like they both were quite happy to take the secret to their graves. That, of course, could not be permitted. 

It took her almost an hour to find them, but find them she did. And she didn't even need their precious Marauder's Map to do it. What she saw upon entering the empty classroom that they had taken possession of nearly made her burst out laughing. It was a remarkable feat indeed for Marissa Fletcher. Standing almost three feet apart, arms barely touching, Peter was trying to teach Remus how to dance. However, after an hour's fruitless effort he had been reduced to cursing at the constant wrong steps that Remus took, somehow still managing to painfully land on his foot despite the distance between them. In foul language, Peter ordered him ten feet away as he shouted out steps for him to complete. "I don't think that's going to work, boys," Marissa said casually, leaning up against the doorframe as if she had been there all along. 

They both jumped sky high, shooting eachother mortified looks so that the laugh Marissa had been suppressing burst from her. "Just what are you trying to do exactly?" 

"We were, um..." "You see, we..." they both began and trailed off simultaneously. Marissa smiled at them, shaking her head at their discomfort. 

Finally, Remus said with an air of defeat, "Professor Perkins is making us learn ballroom dancing for Muggle Studies." His words were almost indistinguishable and mostly mumbles. "I blame that new girlfriend of his. But see, I'm not getting it. And, well, there's a test coming up...he's even threatening to make it our Exam! So I, well, Peter mentioned once that he knew some Muggle dances because of his mum..." 

"Drives Dad mad with her phonograph records, it's about the only non-magical thing in our house. Mum loves magic and most of the time I think she's dead jealous of Dad because she's not a witch, but she does love Muggle music and dances and since Dad is too much of a pureblood to ever enjoy them," Peter stumbled through his rushed explanation, "I'm sorta her partner." 

"Don't say that like you're ashamed of it, boys!" Marissa laughed, coming fully into the room. "But who ever heard of learning to dance without music?" she asked, waving her wand vaguelly at the ceiling and causing a chorus of slow, instrumental music to fill the room. Peter looked down at the ground, his face reddening. 

"I think my help is desperately needed here," Marissa said, walking up to the two boys. 

"Riss, I know you're Muggle-born," Remus began, "But these aren't the kind of dances that every Muggle knows. I'm not talking modern dances here I'm talking - " 

"What? The fox trot? Waltzes? The Two-Step? Malaguenas? Tango? Sarabandes? Gavottes? Courtandes? Allemandes? Pavanes?" Marissa replied with a raised eyebrow. 

"How do you - " Remus began. 

"Ah, you've stumbled onto the fact that I'm a Muggle and the wise conclusion that that does not necessarily mean I dance well," Marissa ceded with a smile. "But luckily for you, I, as well as being a Muggle, am a debutante." With this she struck what Remus thought a highly ridiculous pose, one arm vertical above her head the other horizontal across her stomache, snapping her fingers simultaneously. "So let's get started, eh? What do you need to learn?" 

"Almost everything you just said," Remus said with a laugh of renewed enthusiasm for the task ahead of them. 

"Whew," Marissa cried. "We have our work cut out for us, Peter." It was the first time that she had addressed him individually since he kissed her. She had been just what he had anticipated, kind but slightly distant. She was waiting for him to give her some sign that they were okay, that they could go back to being friends. Peter wasn't so sure that they could. 

Peter had rather hoped that she would want to demonstrate some of the dances with him, but instead she walked right up to Remus and positioned his left hand on her back. She placed her left hand on his shoulder and took his right hand in hers. "I suggest we start with the waltz," she said looking up at him. Peter thought he caught a look of surprise in her eyes for a moment, but her voice did not betray it. Remus looked similiarly surprised by something and looked at Marissa curiously for a moment. Then the moment passed for him as well. They probably forgot that it occured, but Peter remembered. Peter doubted he would ever forget that look in Marissa Fletcher's eye, not love certainly but an interest that could lead to it. Maybe he was just being overly jealous. He certainly was, jealous that is. The only question was was it clouding his vision? 

"Um, Riss, I don't know the dance," Remus said uncertainly when the moment had passed. 

"Before you can learn the steps, you have to learn how to lead, and before you can learn how to lead, you have to learn how to move," Marissa explained, pulling him forward enough to get him moving. Remus felt quite stupid, just walking around trying not to step on Marissa's feet as he did so. Marissa seemed to sense this and laughed, directing him to go in a circle, a manuvuer that Peter had made seem near to impossible when he was explaining the steps. "Just think about moving in the same direction that I am, or rather moving together. That's the essence of couples dancing, move with the same mind as your partner. Usually that doesn't work, so the man leads. Whenever you feel comfortable, you take over. Your left hand on my back will tell me where you want me go." 

"But I don't know how to -" 

"That's why we're learning. See if you can take over the lead now," Marissa assured him. 

"Where do I go?" Remus asked uncertainly. 

"Oh honestly! No one's going to tell you exactly what you can and cannot do out here, Remus," Marissa laughed. "I know the steps may seem like that, but it's really up to you. Your choice. All you need is the confidence to not worry about it so much," she said pointedly. "That's why we're doing this first. How can you learn to dance if you're constantly fussing about the steps? They say bad dancers have two left feet, but usually what it is is that they're overthinking it." 

"And how do we counter that?" Remus asked, not sounding quite so strained as before. 

"You learn how to move on the dancefloor, and once that feels natural, the steps come second-nature," Marissa answered with a smile. "That's the way to teach unless you've been brought up to the steps from a very young age." 

"Like you?" Remus asked with a hint of merriment in his eyes. 

"My first cotillion," she whispered conspiratorily, "was when I was six." 

They both laughed. "Truly?" 

"I live in one of those unfortunate fashionable neighborhoods," Marissa replied, "You know the ones where everybody is in everyone else's business, the office kind and the personal? They think I'm off at some exclusive finishing school and, to keep up the myth, I have to go through all my debutante torture sessions every summer. I'm actually coming out in society this summer. Can you imagine? A witch coming out in Muggle society? With the white gown, escort, and all the rest of the nightmare of frills?" 

Remus shrugged, "Sounds almost as excruciating as spending an hour in the Slytherin Common Room," he said cheekily. 

"Not that you would know, eh?" Marissa replied shrewdly. Again Remus laughed. "My, my, just what are you boys getting up to down there?" Remus shook his head secretively. "Will you tell me, Peter?" she asked over her shoulder. 

But Peter wasn't there. "Peter?" she called, breaking away from Remus and turning slowly to take in the whole room. There was no doubt about it, Peter was not in it. "We weren't excluding him from out conversation, were we?" she asked worriedly, turning to Remus. 

"Not that I was aware of, but think about what you just said," Remus answered soberly. "_Our_ conversation, you called it. I guess that's your answer, isn't it? It's not like we meant to though." 

"I don't think anyone ever does," Marissa sighed. "But I fear it happens to him quite a lot anyway."

* * *

Peter had fully intended to give them the cold shoulder for at least the rest of the day, but Remus and Marissa were so apologetic at dinner that he couldn't keep it up. They seemed so sincere when they spoke of their dismay at finding him not in the room as well as their concern for his feelings. _But didn't they realize that that almost stung more than anything?_ Peter thought to himself as he warmed up his voice for the Special Presentation that night. _That they had forgotten about him completely?_ And they weren't fully repentant either, because they had made plans to meet next without him. Sure, they entreated him to join them, but it had more the air of one throwing a dog the scraps. And Peter was tired of getting nothing but the scraps. So he begged off, telling them that he was quite glad of an excuse to be quit of the project and that he had only agreed under extreme pleading in the first place. Eventually even Riss gave up. 

Peter sighed. All the rest of his friends were happy and would expect him to be as well. Even Lily. James had surprisingly taken pity on her and removed the charm from the paper crane that had chased her all day when he saw that she was near tears at dinner (Marissa had demanded to know how he had cracked her encantation, but he had only smirked at her in answer). Lily had been almost kind to him as a result afterward though she still shot Marissa the occassional dirty look. She hadn't been able to talk to Dennis in peace all day because of James Potter's ruddy bird following her around. 

Peter tried to concentrate on the show that Marissa worked so hard to arrange. He even tried to tell himself that that was why she had been less than her usual considerate self today, she had so much work to concentrate on. It might even be true, but it didn't work for long. Peter sighed and started to make his way backstage. 

"Not so fast, buddy," Amos Diggory, the sixth year Hufflepuff prefect who Marissa had convinced to keep people from wondering backstage, said putting out a hand to check his progress. "Where do you think you're going?" 

"Backstage," Peter said as if speaking to a dunce. 

"I don't think so pal, you can see your friends once the show is over. I have my orders, performers and crew only. No well-wishers," Amos said adamantly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"But-but-but I'm in the show!" Peter cried, trying to move past him but stopped again. 

"Nice try, buddy, but I can't let you - " 

"Amos! What are you doing?" Marissa's alarmed voice cried from behind them. 

"Following orders, Fletcher. You said no one but performers and crew," Amos said as he self-righteously thumped his chest. 

"He is a performer, Amos!" Marissa cried in exasperation, taking Peter by the arm and pulling him past the guard. "Don't stop any more of my singers, all right?" she sent back to him in an almost stern voice. 

"Sorry, Fletcher!" Diggory shouted after them. 

_"Sorry, Fletcher." Not "sorry Pettigrew." Not "sorry I didn't think you were good enough to be in the performance."_ Peter hadn't thought it was possible to be in a fouler mood than he was before. Marissa, of course, had to sense this. Well she could save her worry now, it might have been useful before she looked at his friend that way in front of him after he had kissed her over Christmas. Now she could save it. "I'm sorry about that, Peter, it's my fault. I thought that you were already back here, it didn't occur to me when you said you were going to warm up that you meant away from here. I told Amos that all my performers were already backstage." 

"Oh," was all that Peter felt up to saying at the moment. 

Marissa sighed but moved on, busy with last minute preparations. Was that all he would ever be to her? A distraction? She may call him her friend, but ever since he kissed her everything had changed, no matter how she chose to deny it. They couldn't be friends anymore, not really. Even if she got over acting odd around him eventually, Peter would never forget. 

Peter almost glared at Frank Longbottom and Alice Watterby who were standing close together, ostentaciously going over the duet they were going to perform. Alice was looking up at Frank every other glance, her hands unusually fidgety. Frank was looking down at Alice during the intervals she was staring at the parchment, his voice droning on about something Peter was quite sure that Alice wasn't hearing. He nearly groaned aloud. Valentine's Day was a wretched holiday. Gideon Prewett seemed to be of the same opinion, continually waving Lizzie Walker away and evading her quite rudely. Peter tried not to be pleased at the hurt look on her face, but misery loved company. And Peter currently felt quite miserable. 

The next thing that he knew, Marissa was bounding out of the wings and onto the stage they had erected and moved into the Great Hall after dinner. Peter peeked out to find what was surely almost the entire school watching. Everyone was standing close to the stage and looking both apprehensive and excited. It wasn't every day that they had a live concert, even if it was their prefects. "Welcome to the first annual Valentine's Day concert!" Marissa cried, her wand pointed at her throat to serve as a kind of microphone. Everyone cheered. "The prefects have prepared five musical numbers for you, all of which will be accompanied by Sirius Black on the piano," she waved at Sirius who stood to accept his applause. When he finally sat back down at the keyboard, Marissa continued, "May I introduce our first performer, singing Aretha Franklin's 'Natural Woman', your Head Girl Liiiizzzie Walker!" 

Even as Marissa turned to move off the stage, the first layer of curtains began to fold back and Lizzie was revealed standing in the middle of the stage. Sirius had already struck the opening chords. The moment the curtains were fully back Lizzie began to sing in a surprisingly deep, soulful voice, "Lookin' out on the morning rain..." 

There was no doubt about it that Lizzie was quite a performer, dancing just enough to be interesting without distracting from the song. "I used to feel so uninspired...And when I knew I had to face another day...Lord it made me feel so tired." Peter could have sworn he saw her steal a glance at Gideon backstage who was up next. He looked away from her. 

"Before the day I met you  
Life was so unkind.  
You're the key to my peace of mind  
Cause you make me feel  
You make me feel  
You make me feel like a natural woman." 

Lizzie was definitely looking at Gideon Prewett when she sang the second verse, "I didn't know just what was wrong with me...Till your kiss helped me name it." 

However, she was all for the crowd by the time she sang the final phrase and Sirius finished the piece with a flourish. Everyone exploded into cheers, surprised by the ability of their Head Girl. Lizzie blushed at the applause as the curtain slid shut to hide her. 

Marissa bounced back onto the stage just as the applause was beginning to die down. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our Head Boy Gideon Prewett singing 'The Way You Look Tonight.'" 

Gideon was not the same caliber performer that Lizzie was, hardly dancing at all, but the voice that poured forth was a rich, deep tone that graced the Frank Sinatra tune very well. Peter was much mistaken if he didn't see several of the girls swooning as the warm, distinct baritone sang the romantic lyrics. 

"Someday, when I'm awfully low,  
And the world is cold,  
I will feel aglow just thinking of you...  
And the way you look tonight." 

One thing was for sure, Lizzie was watching him with a distinct sadness in her eyes, her gaze worried and almost proprietary. 

"Lovely...never, ever change.  
Keep that breathless charm.  
Won't you please arrange it?  
Cause I love you...just the way you look tonight." 

Peter saw that Gideon, like Lizzie, was shooting looks at his fellow Head from the stage and likewise looked far sadder than his upbeat song warranted. 

"Mm, mm, mm, mm,  
Just the way you look to-night." 

Sirius finished with a flourish, but Gideon looked unwilling to even bow. He looked far more depressed than usual, even compared to his first week back after Christmas. Peter wondered briefly if he was being petty to ascribe so much importance to his own problems which weren't near what Gideon had to bear. Was Lizzie helping him with that? Or had she been overly meddlesom? Now that Peter could understand. 

The next number was what would prove to be interesting. "Frank and Alice Longbottom singing 'I Got You Babe'!" Peter smirked as he ducked behind the final curtain to peer at Lily and James who were standing beside eachother. James was looking at Lily in an unguarded moment where she was looking nervously down at her feet, and Peter had the fleeting thought that no one would ever love him like that. As the duet filled the hall, Peter glanced back and forth between Alice and Frank who were now visible to the audience and Lily and James who were not. Frank and Alice seemed intensely affected by their duet, holding hands not merely out of appearances, looking mostly at eachother. Lily and James were standing several feet apart, but watching eachother intently all the same. Alice's face had always been more open than Lily's, but now it was far more overwhelmingly so as Lily's expression was closed and guarded even as she appeared unable to tear her eyes away from James Potter's. Frank was actually looking less expressive than James, but that wasn't saying terribly much though James was not looking quite so unguarded as he had when Lily was looking away from him. 

"And when I'm sad, you're a clown and if I get scared, you're always around." 

The sweet soprano voice roise almost wistfully. Peter found himself envying both couples, though he knew that James would likely be back to square one with Lily once the song was over. 

"Then put your little hand in mine there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb." 

It didn't seem James would trade this moment for anything even so. Nor Frank for all his many claims that he didn't have a thing for Alice Watterby. He didn't seem to be so insistent upon that point at the moment. 

"I got you to kiss goodnight." 

It was quite possible that her voice broke on that phrase. 

"I got you to hold me tight."  
"I got you, I won't let go."  
"I got you to love me so." 

Peter sighed almost against his will as they began to wind down the song, repeating the title of the song in unison several times before Sirius's piano playing trailed off. 

Alice and Frank didn't seem to have noticed that the curtain hadn't closed fully yet when he leaned down to kiss her. That didn't surprise Peter. Nor did the fact that Lily had blinked and promptly broken the spell, striding angrily away from James who still appeared fixed in place. He was surprised, however, to see that fireworks were exploding all around Alice and Frank and that some high-pitched music was sounding all around them. Peter groaned aloud this time and took his place behind the curtain that wouldn't open. Yes, that was his proper place.

* * *

When Frank and Alice had pulled themselves off the stage, but not fully out of eachother's arms, Lizzie confronted Marissa. "You're the one! I knew it! You charmed everyone in this school so that if they kissed..." Lizzie broke off, shaking her head at her friend, her hair flopping about her face. 

Marissa's smile grew ten times as wide, "Oh Lizzie!" she cried, "Who did you kiss?" She sounded as gleeful as a six year old at her birthday party. "Who?" 

Lizzie's expression went from amused incredulity to serious so fast that Marissa's grin slid off her face. "Oh, Lizzie, what happened?" she all but whispered, both of them ignoring the swoon that went up when Lockhart emerged onto the stage and began to sing a very appropriate song for him ("C'est Moi!"). 

Lizzie sighed. "We came down from the cloud and back into reality, I suppose," she murmured. "And all the problems he faced before were still here." 

"I guess I didn't help you maintain your dreamy state with my antics," Marissa said sounding uncharacteristically apologetic. 

"No," Lizzie said honestly. "But it would have happened anyway, I think. But if you want to make it up to me, I think you're just the girl for the job." 

"What job?" Marissa asked speculatively. Lizzie laughed, Marissa had never been able to resist a Cheering Mission. 

"Snapping Gideon Prewett out of his self-recriminations and melancholy," Lizzie said with a small smile. "So that maybe he'll risk being happy again." 

"I'll just about do it," Marissa said with a serious nod of her head. 

"Then I quite forgive you for prematurely ending the moment," Lizzie said judiciously. "Particularly if you can help me get him into some others." 

"Sounds like a challenge," Marissa said in a voice that made it quite clear that she would not be detered by such a thing. 

"Your first assignment will be to get him to start talking to me again," Lizzie said, looking up to see that Lockhart had finished the self-important song of Lancelot in the musical _Camelot_ and was bowing elaborately to the crowd which appeared torn between cheering and jeering (not that Guilderoy could tell the difference). She strode out onto the stage and they immediately quieted. "For our final act, I present to you, the mastermind behind all the mayhem this Valentine's Day....Marissa Fletcher!" 

The curtain parted and Sirius struck up the tune. After a moment, Marissa opened her mouth and out came...Gideon's voice? 

"Fly me to the moon  
Let me sing among the stars  
Let me see what spring is like  
On Jupiter and Mars  
In other words, hold me hand  
In other words, darling kiss me"

One thing was clear, it was not Marissa Fletcher's natural singing voice. But before anyone could get overly concerned about his issue, the solution revealed itself. 

The second curtain parted and out came Remus who clearly singing the part that Marissa was miming, 

"Fill my heart with song  
Let me sing for ever more  
You are all I long for  
All I worship and adore  
In other words, please be true" 

He and Marissa were now side by side, her clearly laughing along with everyone else in the audience at how they had been tricked. 

"In other words, I love you." 

Remus and Marissa both stayed there bowing and laughing profusely for a moment before Sirius promptly struck up another, less bouncy tune. Remus's rich voice, which everyone now realized he must have been singing for Gideon as well sang out, 

"Years may come, years may go  
This I know, will e'er be so:  
The reason to live is only to love  
A goddess on earth and a God above."

Then Lizzie and Belle stepped onto the stage, Belle singing in what everyone had thought was Lizzie's voice, 

"If ever I would leave you  
It wouldn't be in summer.  
Seeing you in summer, I never would go.  


And then Gideon graced the stage as Remus took over again, 

"Your hair streaked with sunlight...  
Your lips red as flame.  
Your face with a lustre  
That puts gold to shame." 

Then the largest group of all, Frank and Alice with Lily and James. James singing clearly, 

"But if I'd ever leave you  
It couldn't be in autumn  
How I'd leave in autumn, I never would know.  
I've seen how you sparkle  
When fall hits the air  
I know you in autumn, and I must be there."

Then Lily, pointedly not looking at James as she stood with Alice, 

"And could I leave you running merrily through the snow?  
Or on a wintry evening when you catch the fire's glow?  
If ever I would leave you,  
How could it be in springtime,  
Knowing how in spring I'm bewitched by you so?" 

And finally Guilderoy Lockhart and Peter Pettigrew, Peter belting, 

"Oh no, not in spring time, summer, winter or fall....  
No, never could I leave you...at...all..."

Then all of them together repeated the last two lines, 

No, never could I leave you....at....all...."

"Happy Valentine's Day everybody!" Marissa shouted as the curtains closed on them. Marissa immediately hugged Remus, who was nearest. "We did it, guys! We tricked the whole school and they loved it!" 

"It's good to have you back, Riss," Remus said with a grin.

* * *

**Posted:** 12/14/2004 


	7. Politics

**Disclaimer: **JK? not me. Just in Kase you Just didn't Know.

**A/N:** Merry Christmas guys.

* * *

**Chapter Seven  
Politics**

_Well, that's certainly interesting,_ the hat murmured in his ear. 

The boy was nervous, and when he was nervous he sneered at whatever was frightening him. "Like it takes a lot to interest you. You're awfully dull, even for a hat."

_And I suppose your father has better ones? Is that the next line you're planning to say?. . . No. . .I see not. Cleverer than most then, that's a little more original than the rest of the heads I've been sitting on all night._

"What is?"

_What you were about to say._

"But I hadn't thought of it yet."

_Maybe not so clever. You underestimate things you don't understand. Here's a lesson for you boy - _

"I don't need lessons from a hat. You can't even figure out which house I belong in. Fine, I'll spell it out for you. Slytherin. I'm not getting off this stool if you say anything else. I'll just sit here until you take it back."

_Yes, and you're just the sort for it too, if you won't listen to a being who's been witness to the wisdom of every genius ever to enter Hogwarts. I'll tell you anyway, as you may not always be so concerned only with what's right in front of your face. Not all power is of your nature, and not all knowledge is what you've been disposed to. There are other routes to greatness than the one that you have chosen._

"I'm not going to change who I am for a stupid hat."

_By the staff of Merlin! I don't want you to, boy. I just want you to realize that their are other paths and others who will take those paths. Don't dismiss them because they do not follow your path. Or are you too full of yourself to learn that much?_

"Since you seem to find it so distasteful to talk to me and I'm not leaving until you say Slytherin, why don't you just bloody well say - "

"SLYTHERIN!" Professor Lucille Delacour was the second smallest teacher after Professor Flitwick. Her long brown tresses the color of mahogany curled down her back until, rumor had it, she could sit on it. And not one strand of it was ever out of place. Her eyes were an emerald green that sparkled with her considerable intelligence and spunk. She displayed both to her classes at all times.

She had a brother who was still in France and thought her daft for coming to England, everyone knew this because every time she got sick of the rain or the Ministry for Magic she remarked that she should have listened to him. It was James and Sirius, of course, who asked her (repeatedly) why she hadn't.

Professor Delacour, to everyone's immense surprise, had answered one day out of the blue. Even she looked surprised that the words she was muttering under her breath were audible to the rest of the class. Lily later claimed that she had intended to cast the charm only to make it audible to them. Marissa and the Marauders later wondered why they had given Lily that particular job.

"I woold go anzeewhere to escape that leetle devil that has me brother by the throat, that blonde beetch 'oo I fully believe eez a veela like the roomers say," she muttured bitterly, completely unaware that the entire class could hear her mumblings. She had looked perfectly horrified when she did realize.

Not that the class liked her any less for what they thought of as the Outburst. The Potionmaster from France had never been a professor in need of color (like Professor Sinistra whose blandness invited stories that may or may not be true about her husband's gift of the Day Star Room to her). No, the small (anywhere else she may have been called "tiny" but at Hogwarts that was reserved for Professor Flitwick) Professor Delacour was made interesting by virtue of having never attended Hogwarts before she took the position in the dungeons of the great castle. Her fabled first year (which none of the students left at Hogwarts had actually witnessed) of grand complaints and endless tirade against the dungeons had led to Dumbledore fashioning large windows with a gorgeous view of a garden swathed in light to be placed in her office, despite the fact that it was underground. The tiny dial that allowed her to control the weather had put an end to her complaints and reconciled her to Hogwarts Castle at last until she, in later years, claimed to prefer it to Beauxbatons. No one was quite sure if the believed her.

Afterall, she started all her lectures on the Gryffindor/Slytherin spats she had to witness with a proclamation that they had never had these kinds of inter-House problems at Beauxbatons.

Like the one she gave at the beginning of class on their first class in March. Double Potions was their first class on Tuesday. It was a wonderful way to start the day, with the Slytherins, they all agreed. Not that they escaped seeing the Slytherins in class on any day but Friday.

The lecture that Professor Delacour visited on them that day was unique only in that it occured at the beginning of class before they had even had a chance to squabble at eachother across the dungeon. "It 'as occured to me that the Inter-'Ouse rivalries between Slytherin and Gryffindor will never 'epair theemselves on their own. But do not deespair, fo' I have a plan. Starting today we will 'ave assigned partners in all potions experiments. I 'ave assigned the partners as such. . ."

Not one Gryffindor was paired with a member of their own house. Lily Evans drew Annette Penola; Sirius, Jessica Havisham; Peter, Augustus Trabb; James, Igor Karkaroff. But Marissa drew the ultimate short straw. Severus Snape. As there were more Slytherins, some of them were lucky. Professor Delacour warned them that she would be switching the partners routinely. No one was particularly sorry to hear that.

Professor Delacour was not a teacher blessed with the gift of keeping a class silent with minimal effort, but that day you could have heard a pin drop.

Marissa's spirits had dropped again once her Valentine's Day mission was behind her and she had nothing to distract herself with. Still, they were significantly improved from the week before Valentine's Day. The most obvious sign of this was that she was allowing her friends to cheer her up now. Still, Lily worried that two hours spent in Severus Snape's exclusive company was not the best way to mend her fragile spirits, particularly when she noticed that they were talking. Marissa may be the only Gryffindor who could truthfully say that she had never gotten into a fight with a Slytherin, even a verbal exchange of insults, possibly in the entire history of Hogwarts, but with Severus Snape Lily highly doubted that the conversation could be very pleasant. Not even the other Slytherins liked him.

Despite Lily's dire reflections, Snape and Marissa's conversation was limited to "I'll slice the shrivelfigs" and "Would you please pass the toads you de-horned? It's time to add them." If the Slytherin's comments were tinged with, "Do you think you're capable of..." and "If it's not too difficult for you..." then Marissa handled it all in stride the way her fellow Gryffindors never would have.

What was truly dangerous was a line of questioning that occured as it neared time to place all the ingredients in the cauldron, "I think I should tend the cauldron, yes? I hear you burned that little brat of yours trying to cook. That's how you were found out, yes?"

Marissa's mouth fell open at the unprovoked attack, moving soundlessly as she stared at Snape. "What do you know, the Gryffindor golden girl is as stupid as I suspected," he sneered at her shocked silence. "Then again, you are clever about procuring sympathy."

Marissa just stared at him, "What do you mean by that?" the tightness in her voice revealed her anger. Sirius and Remus who were working with their respective partners nearby and subtly keeping an eye on her and the slimy git jerked their heads up at the tone of her voice.

If Snape noticed, it only egged him on to greater heights. He could handle Black out of class, and don't even make him laugh mentioning Lupin, and it wasn't as if Saint Fletcher was going to do anything about it. Besides, he was enjoying the reaction that his taunts were (at last after five and a half years) getting out of her. "Oh, it's just that you seem to drop into your mourning routine only when the attention has fallen off you somewhat. So tell me, you miss the limelight so much that you have to reinvent your grief for a mother who died nine years ago?"

Marissa gasped and dropped her knife with a clatter as she backed away. It was a good thing too, because the next second, Sirius Black had launched himself at the Slytherin and was lifting him up by his collar, tall enough that the Slytherin's toes were barely touching the ground. Remus reached them second, but he did not try to separate Sirius from the slimeball like had often been his role, but placed a comforting hand on Marissa's shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise, as if he had startled her out of inner reflections. He shook his head to indicate that no one (probably not even Snape) believed his taunts. She tried to smile weakly in thanks.

Meanwhile, Sirius still had Snape by the throat and was shouting at him to apologize. A ring was beginning to form around them when the petite brunette burst through it looking daggers at all of them and forced the two apart almost effortlessly. No one had anticipated Professor Delacour being so strong. "I theenk that we 'ave 'ad enough Inter-'Ouse Politics for today," she said as she glared back and forth between them. "Class dismeessed."

Before she could stop herself, Lily cried in surprise, "But professor, we haven't finished the potions yet, and you said it'd be on O.W.-"

"I said, class dismeessed, Mees Evans," Professor Delacour said pointedly. "Everyone but Mr. Black is free to leave. You will stay to deescuss your detention."

Everyone gathered up their books and hastily exited the room. The moment they were up the stairs, the other three Marauders exploded into loud complaints about Sirius's sentence. "The things Snape said to Marissa!" "Like the slimy git didn't deserve it!" "You know Snivellus was trying to fight back, and because of the fact that he can't Sirius is the one who gets punished!"

"Relax, mates, it's just a detention," Sirius said with a self-satisfied and not remotely penitent smirk on his face. "It was worth it, believe me. Can you imagine anyone sinking so low to insult her mother?"

"You shouldn't have hit him, Sirius," Marissa said, breaking past them and running up the steps. Lily ran after her, glaring back at the boys for all the world as if they were the ones who had caused Marissa's distress. Remus was almost apprehensive when he entered the Charms classroom after dinner and saw Marissa sitting and staring out the window waiting for him. Her mood was so fragile these days, and Snape's well-aimed insults had shattered it apparently. She didn't notice that he was in the room until he said awkwardly, "So...this morning..," why was it suddenly so hard to string a coherent sentence together? They had talked (once) about her mother and he hadn't been this tongue-tied. Now he couldn't discuss some petty insults that a slimy git of a Slytherin had said to her.

"I probably shouldn't have snapped at Sirius, he was just defending me," Marissa said before sighing and turning to face him. There was a slight frown on her face that looked monstrously out of place.

"He's not upset with you, just thinks you're too soft on Snivellus," Remus said with a weak smile.

"That's a horrible insult with you Marauders!" Marissa cried with a laugh in her voice. Remus suppressed a sigh of relief at the sound of it. "Anyway, let's see, are we about due to start the tango?"

She had spent only their first lesson teaching him how to move and now they spent two nights a week learning and practicing countless dance steps. She insisted that he not "fall into a rut" as she called it. Remus wasn't entirely sure what the reference was (when he asked she said something about wheels on carts getting stuck in roads, but he had stopped trying to understand at "It's a Muggle thing from when mules had to pull carts...") but what it meant to him was that she wouldn't let him just memorize a series of steps. She made him improvise.

"Didn't you say we'd have to learn pavanes first? Something about the footwork - "

"Oh yes, yes," she remembered. "Very well," she waved her wand and stately orchestra music filled the room. Once they were in position, she began to describe the steps to him, correcting him slightly as they went. By the end of thirty minutes, she they had gone over all of the standard steps in the dance and Marissa had instructed him to lead her around the room using them. After several minutes of concentration, he was comfortable enough with this that they could talk.

"So when did you first learn dancing? It's like second nature to you," Remus said. He changed directions abruptly, but she followed him without a faulter. He smiled down at her when she opened her mouth to protest, an eyebrow raised to remind her of the flawless manevuer she had just executed.

"Oh all right, I'll tell you," she conceded. "My mother started teaching me when I was five, in preparation for my first cotillion at six."

"Five years old," Remus marveled, shaking his head. "Somehow I expected your mother to, I don't know, break the mold of your neighborhood in that department."

"Me too, truthfully," Marissa replied thoughtfully. "Though it makes more sense now that I know she's a witch, a lot of things do for that matter. But as for this, how was she to know that not all Muggle society was like that? That most would find it extreme? And she was embracing Muggle society fully after all. Throwing children together from about the age of twelve on, hundreds of old women playing matchmaker and cackling behind their hands, bureaucrats with their political wives, businessmen dangling the marriages of their daughters and sons for merges and business dealings..."

"And it might not have seemed so alien to her," Remus said with a long sigh, "Not if she was a pureblood."

"Don't tell me!" Marissa cried, looking at him in surprise.

"Substitute the dancing for Quodpot, crochet and polo for Quidditch, and marrying age twelve for age six and you about have it," Remus said, scowling down at the floor at the stiff memories of his starched and ironed childhood, his parents twice as desperate as the rest to fulfill every protocol and be dubbed normal by the insane club.

"Age six?" Marissa cried in surprise and alarm. "That's literally cradle-robbing!"

"That's why purebloods don't marry Muggle-borns," Remus sighed again. Marissa stiffened in his arms, looking up at with an inscrutable expression on her face that was very close to rebuke. "Oh, don't get me wrong, some of them are fiercely prejudiced. But most families aren't anymore, even some of the Slytherin-based ones. The real reason that purebloods don't marry anything but other purebloods or half-bloods is that they're all paired up in the parents' minds by the age of eight at the latest, long before the Muggle-borns get their Hogwarts letter and join the wizarding world. They're three years too late to be the parents' choice."

"I thought that arranged marriages expired years ago! Didn't Binns say once in class that the Ministry repealed the legitimacy of it?" Marissa said curiously.

"Oh yes, but you'll know whom they've chosen for you because her parents as well as yours will be throwing you at her constantly," Remus explained. "And if you're too thick to get it through your skull, most of them will tell you almost bluntly. And if you don't care for that girl...there's snubbing, tears, and if you and they are both really determined..."

"Disinheritance," Marissa finished.

Remus looked down in slight surprise, "Yes, how did you - "

"You think that Muggles haven't found that particular way around the end of legal protection of the antiquated practice?" Marissa looked at him with a half-hearted smile on her face. She let out a long sigh, "Is there no where safe for the debutante?"

"Well, there's Hogwarts," Remus replied with a warm smile. "Beauxbatons is infested with the game and I don't even want to think about it at Durmstrang. Professor Delacour must have been disinherited or nearly to have remained single this long. But Hogwarts is like a haven. Dumbledore doesn't let anyone, not even the parents, put pressure on us here. That's why Sirius dates so determinedly."

"What?" Marissa said, truly surprised.

"What, did you think he just couldn't settle down? It's a kind of defiance of his parents, like most things that he does," Remus replied. "Even his happy demeanor I sometimes think is a way of thumbing his nose at them."

"And would James have any of that? Or is it just a coincide that Lily's a Muggle-born?" Marissa asked pointedly.

"James's case is very different," Remus replied. "He has good parents."

"Don't you, Remus?" Marissa asked, peering up at him soliticiously.

"I love my parents, Riss, don't get me wrong," Remus assured her. "But they love the game of it. Obsessed is what they are."

"Have your future wife all picked out?"

"No. They don't."

"How can you be so sure? Didn't you just say that Hogwarts was a safe zone? Maybe they're waiting for you to leave it," now she was teasing him.

"Believe me they don't." "Gideon, I hope you know you can't ignore me forever."

"I can try."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. You're doing a very good job of it. You're being an idiot about it too. Why won't you at least talk to me?"

"We have nothing to say."

"Bullshit."

"Yes, I guess I did speak incorrectly. You have plenty to say, obviously. I, however, have nothing to say to you."

"So, what then? You just want to pretend it didn't happen?"

"Pretend what didn't happen?"

"Oh that's real mature, Gideon. Real mature."

"Listen, Walker, I don't have time for this so either grow up and leave me alone or get it through your head that you and what happened both mean absolutely nothing to me, understand?" Gideon yelled at her walking away faster than she could follow him. Lizzie didn't attempt it, nor did she say anything else. She hadn't really expected it to be that simple. That's why she had a back-up plan for this encounter.

"Gideon!" a voice cried loudly the moment he rounded the corner.

"Hello, Marissa," Gideon said tiredly but cordially. "What is it with blondes today and tracking me down in the corridors?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Gideon," Marissa lied, "But I wanted to ask you something. It's about Valentine's Day..." Gideon waited semi-patiently for her to explain. "Well, ever since then you've been...more distant with me than usual and...I was wondering...did you think I was too, I don't know, overenthusiastic or something? Are you upset or - "

"Are you crazy, Fletcher?" Gideon cut her off. "I wanted you to take the job away from Lockhart. And wasn't I in your Special Presentation?"

"Yes, but...did you think that I went overboard just like we were all afraid that Lockhart would do?" Marissa pressed.

"Marissa...yes, you sent a deluge of confetti down on us but at least you waited until we finished eating and yes, you had little 'cupids' delivering messages all day that got on some people's nerves, but at least they weren't disgruntled dwarfs who don't appreciate being stuffed into pink wings and carrying harps. And you made a joke out of serenading the school," Gideon outlined. "So yes, you went over the top, but you did it tastefully. So yes, I'm glad you took over Valentine's Day and no, I'm not upset with you. In case you haven't noticed, I've been short with just about everyone. Sorry about that."

"I have noticed," Marissa said with a slight smile. "But...what about charming everyone so that if they kissed fireworks and cherubs would fly all around them?"

Gideon actually stopped his furiously paced walk. He turned to look her full in the face, "That was you?" he cried before he could realize that this would be a mistake.

"Gideon Prewett!" Marissa cried as if in surprised delight at discovering a secret.

Gideon's eyes went from incredulous to closed in a fraction of a second and he turned briskly and walked away even faster than before.

Marissa was almost jogging to keep up. "Now, is that fair? You have to at least tell me who now!"

Gideon stopped so quickly that Marissa nearly ran into him. His eyes were flashing when they met hers. "Don't you think you've done enough, Fletcher?" he said angrily. "Leave it alone." And with that, he walked away from her as well, hoping fervently that she didn't talk to Lizzie. But even Gideon Prewett's anger could not compare to that of James Potter when he saw Lily Evans walking down the corridors, calm as you please, hand-in-hand with Dennis Wemmick. The Hufflepuff surprised and impressed Marissa and the other Marauders when he didn't quail in the face of James's rage. In fact, it would be difficult to say that he batted an eyelash at the younger boy's fury.

Nor did he so much as comment on the buckets of ice water and worse that seemed to be falling on his head at an unusually high rate, it never occured to him to wonder or tattle when his food was spiced to a degree far too hot for a British tongue and water mixed with his milk, Dennis Wemmick didn't offer the Marauders a single outward sign of annoyance for the immense effort they expended in drilling minute holes in his potions cauldron. Professor Delacour had an arguably more vocal reaction to this last one, giving them a week of detentions and adding an additional chapter to her Chronicles of the Lost Cauldron or whatever it was titled this week.

After that it was all tripping him in the Courtyard, kicking chairs out in front of him in the Great Hall, invisible and often unrecognizable unpleasant articles being left on his seat in classes (how they had derived his schedule was the most impressive thing about this prank). Wemmick's one and only comment on it was made to Lily, "It's really not so bad by half as what I expected. I truly expected them to be much more creative in their efforts."

"Don't say things like that, it's tempting the gods," Lily had chided him, glancing uncomfortably over her shoulder as if afraid to find that she was being followed.

And of course all this made him the hero of the James Potter Fan Club. What had started out officially as the Gryffindor Booster Club founded jointly by Lily and Marissa, the even then entirely female group had grown so star-crazy over James's flying ability that even before the love triangle gone wrong, Lily had found the meetings too sickening to continue to attend and lead. That left Marissa alone at the helm of twenty-odd girls all mooning over one of her best friends who already had a rather swollen head. When girls from other houses began asking to join and even attending without permission, the club lost all pretense and the Gryffindor Booster Squad became a separate group within the larger James Potter Fan Club.

And of course, what club devoted to worship of James would be complete without those pining devotely for Sirius Black? It was virtually impossible to separate them in anything, and this was too grand a joke on too large a scale for him to be left out. In all but name, the group of gabbling girls was pledged to moon over Sirius Black as well.

But Sirius, at least, dated some of them. James was like a unicorn. In the uncatchable sense at least. There was only one girl that he wanted, the only girl who didn't want anything to do with him (excluding perhaps someone like Narcissa Black, but that's a separate issue). Lily Evans. And of course, Evans never had a boyfriend who would claim her for long with Hogwarts' leading prankster out for his blood. So there she was, distracting Potter from his adoring fans by her involuntary single status. But not anymore. Dennis Wemmick had stepped up to the plate. He had taken the object of James Potter's affections off the market and out of his reach. Now, he could get his head out of the clouds and appreciate the gaggle of girls who were vying for his heart.

Or, at least, that was the prevailing theory at the next meeting that Marissa presided over. That and the fact that the fact that Marissa's friendship with Lily was compromising her ability to lead the club. One Natalie Blaise was of the opinion that her "association with the deluded woman continually rejecting the god in our midst cannot but cloud her own vision and thus render her incapable of leading this club in the direction intended." It was said casually, but it was plain that it was a challenge.

"This club was intended to be a Gryffindor-only club devoted exclusively to Quidditch, Natalie. You have not expressed an interest in either in all the time that I've known you," Suzie Q. had retorted on Marissa's behalf, all but glaring at the Ravenclaw beauty.

Marissa, placing a hand on her shoulder to gently warn her off, sized up Natalie's bid for the presidency appraisingly. Her eyes flicked over the faces in the group behind her and those watching the scene with worry on their faces. It wasn't as if girls hadn't tried to oust Marissa from her position before. The last girl who had come close to actually threatening her had been rewarded with no greater victory than that Marissa's leadership became official. That was how the position of President of the James Potter Fan Club had been created and come to rest on Marissa Fletcher's shoulders in one swift manuveur. Natalie Blaise couldn't compete, whatever she thought. Not when she had underestimated Marissa so grossly.

To Natalie Blaise, Marissa Fletcher was probably no more than a naive, sweet, crowd-pleasing girl who was at least half-cheerleader because she had thought to found a Booster Squad. And ineffectual enough that she had let it become something quite different from her original intentions. But was it weak to change your agenda to fit your means and current problems? No, it was merely resourceful. And if there was one thing that you could say about Marissa Fletcher, it was that she was resourceful.

Marissa doubted she would even need her trump card to maintain her status in the club. And she needed to maintain it. She was the only one of the girls in the entire room that would exercise and enforce the necessary restraint. And she was the only girl in the room who wanted to see James Potter scale down his head.

It was going to be a long night.

"You know, it's funny that you say that, Natalie," Marissa replied in her typical cheerful voice. "Because Lily founded this club with me."

"And ducked out when she saw what it was becoming," Natalie replied with the same frozen smile on her face as before, a hint of victory in her tone. So she thought she had won that easily did she?

"Yes, for the precise reason that you worry about," Marissa returned. "So she wouldn't be sitting in the back, doing her nails and rolling her eyes. At that point, Lily and I made a patented agreement to agree to disagree about James Potter. We swore an oath not to speak of him in our dorm. An oath we've kept faithfully...on days he doesn't do anything interesting." This ellicited a laugh from all the girls but those posed behind Natalie. "The arguments we've had about him!" Marissa laughed at the very real encounters she was describing. "The arguments I've presented to her would make Severus Snape worship James Potter. Thanks to her influence," Marissa couldn't resist drawing out these last four words, "I have amassed no less than ten separate presentations of these arguments. Ten different reasons that I call..." With a flourish, Marissa pulled out her wand and waved it at the blackboard, "The Top Ten Reasons Why James Potter Deserves Our Admiration."

At her words, the list began to materialize as if an invisible hand were writing on the blackboard. "Item One," Marissa read off, chancing a glance at Natalie's angry face before she surveyed the room. Support from all but those around Natalie and defeat in her supporters' eyes. Apparently they too had underestimated Marissa Fletcher.

Natalie made no less than five additional attempts to undercut Marissa's authority over the club during the course of that one meeting. Only her final attempt had even flustered Marissa. She quickly recovered. When Natalie and her group left, sulky and vengeful, Marissa let out a long sigh. Having to distract from Natalie's attacks was a useful way to evade a confrontation, but very difficult to work into the flow of the meeting. As such, the agenda had been royally screwed by the time Marissa adjourned the meeting.

Oh well, there wasn't another Quidditch Match for Gryffindor until the end of the year. And Quidditch matches were always Marissa's main focus, a hold-over from the days when she and Lily had run the Gryffindor Boosters together.

"Natalie Blaise wants to be team captain of the Potter Patrol," Marissa said when she entered her dorm room to find Lily seated on her bed with a book in her hands. "Seems to think that being antagonistic will get her anywhere, that one."

"Club politics, spare me," Lily all but grunted, not looking up from her book.

"C'mon, Lils, you're my best friend," Marissa playfully pretended ignorance of Lily's intense dislike of the concept of a James Potter Fan Club. "Shouldn't you care that Natalie Blaise is out for my job?"

"Here's an idea," Lily replied from behind her book, "Let her have it."

"And have her singing odes to Dennis Wemmick? Is that what you want, Lily Evans?" Marissa asked.

"As you have ceased talking sense, I am going to ignore you now."

"He's their hero now, don't you know? For taking you off the market and away from James's reach supposedly," Marissa continued cheekily.

"Club politics, spare me," Lily repeated drolly, turning the page in her Advanced Transfiguration book.

"Still think you have nothing in common with those...what do you call them again?" Lily finally looked up to see Marissa's undeceivingly innocent look.

Lily immediately returned to her book. "You mean lunatics? Or delusionals? Or cheerleaders? I live with a girl who's all three, so it's rather hard for me to tell the difference most of the time."

"Have a date tonight, Lils?" "James convinced you to do _what?_" Sirius exclaimed, staring at Marissa's notepad as the trudged out to the Quidditch Pitch with the rest of the school.

"Catalogue all the plays that Ravenclaw makes. Says since Slytherin's style of play is so similiar to Gryffindor's it would be...what was that phrase he used? Condusive to the training program? To have Ravenclaw's methods of countering it written down," Marissa replied with a bright smile. "Lily here agreed to help me."

"I told her she should suggest to James that he get a video recorder and catalogue it himself, but Riss here insists on being overly helpful," Lily said slightly sullenly as she stared gloomily at her feet. For Lily Evans, Quidditch had about the same appeal as sharing a room with the new Petunia.

"Nah, Muggle contraptions don't work at Hogwarts," Sirius said off-handedly. Both of the girls stopped dead in their tracks and turned around to stare at Sirius in wonder. "What? You think a pureblood can't know things like that? Muggles have some damn useful devices. Damn shame they don't work here really." They were still staring mutely at him. "I wonder why he wouldn't want the Marauders to help him out, though? Or Jacob Bell, he's down with an injury."

"Arm injury, genius boy," Marissa retorted rolling her eyes. "And between Remus's lack of knowledge and interest in the sport, which he won't admit to, Peter's poor eyesight, which he also won't admit to, and your tendency for getting distracted, I think James knew exactly what he was doing asking Lily and me."

"He doesn't have a death wish. He didn't ask me directly," Lily mumbled sounding distinctly put out and giving her friend a pointed glare she knew wouldn't faze her in the least.

"What does she have over you, Evans, to draw you out here so early on a Saturday morning for your arch nemesis, Quidditch?" Sirius asked, leaning forward conspiratorily.

"Oh, I've just threatened to tell everyone about the original Singing Incident," Marissa replied gaily for all the world as if the question had been directed at her.

Lily stomped on her foot hard, glaring at her best friend, "And part of this arrangement is that that night is _never mentioned however obliquely!_" she practically shrieked. Marissa only laughed. They had reached the pitch and were climbing up the stairs into the stands.

Sirius looked thoughtful. Dangerously so. "Hm, there are any number of spells that could be cast on a person that he or she is more vulnerable to if singing...the question is which one? Was it a truth charm?" Lily tried not to jump in surprised alarm. "No! Whatever did you admit to, Lily?"

"Oh let her be, Sirius," Marissa said with a wave of her hand.

"If he figures out anymore, I will kill you Marissa Jane Fletcher," Lily whispered fiercely in her ear as they took their seats with the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Suddenly worried about your memory charms, Lils?" Marissa teased her as the Slytherin team in dark green robes made their way out onto the Pitch.

"Good morning Quidditch fans! This is James Potter taking over for our regular announcer Head Boy Gideon Prewett who is feeling under the weather. And now..." the distaste was plain in James's voice, "I give you the Slytherin Quidditch team..." He seemed slightly more pleased by the boos echoing from the stadium as he announced their names with marked disgust, "Pucey, Bletchely, Malfoy, Flink, Derrick, Bole, and Higgs. Captain Terence Pucey shocked the entire school at the beginning of the year by adding Valerie Malfoy to his roster, the first girl to make the Slytherin team in anyone's memory."

"Potter," Professor McGonagall's voice said warningly.

"What, Professor? It's true! I'm just giving some background on the match," James cried, innocently incredulous at her reprimand.

"Try to keep it to the match, Potter," Professor McGonagall said tiredly.

"Righto, Professor," James replied cheerily. "And here comes the Ravenclaw team led by captain Peggy Kong. Kong's main find this year was Cindy Liu, the team's Seeker who's sure to give Higgs a run for his money. Not that she'd give me one, of course. Easy Professor! And there's the Patil twins Larry and Barry, well matched as Beaters against Derrick and Bole despite the significant weight advantage of the Slytherins. They make up for in speed what they lack in dumb bulk. And then of course, Henderson, Davies and Bryce make up one of the more creative Chaser teams in our school's league, nothing like the crude violence popular with the Slytherin team -"

"James Potter! If you cannot commentate in an impartial manner - "

"Don't know what she's talking about. I think he's making a noble attempt to be unbiased, don't you think?" Marissa said with a laugh. The door to the Prefect's lounge opened and closed with a snap. Gideon didn't turn around. He was staring out the window to the distant view of the Quidditch Pitch where the match was in full swing. Every once in awhile he caught a string of James's comentary, whenever he got particularly angry or excited and the volume rose accordingly.

Gideon sighed for more than the fact that he was missing the match. He knew what prefect would throw school spirit so blatantly in the face to miss the match. And it wasn't Stacy Meirson who had never shown much interest in the sport.

In fact, her speaking was really an unnecessary confirmation. And one that he didn't want. She was about to speak, when his voice rang out, "I knew I shouldn't have begged off commentating. I may have had to sit next to you, but at least I wouldn't have had to talk to you." He turned around in his seat. "So, did you get down to the pitch and fight your way back up to the school on the off-chance I'd be here? I find your determination acutely annoying, Walker."

"Give me a little more credit than that, Gideon. The Head Boy commentates at Quidditch Matches unless he plays or doesn't want the job. The next person that they ask is...the Head Girl. McGonagall talked to me yesterday after you 'begged off' as you put it. I merely confessed my inferior knowledge of the sport," Lizzie explained in a cheerful voice, walking slowly forward. "So I never went down to the pitch, no."

"Brilliant, Walker. My congratulations," Gideon spit sarcastically, brushing roughly past her to the door. It was locked.

Shooting his fellow Head a furious glance, he yanked out his wand. "If you're about to use 'alohomora' don't bother," Lizzie replied, again almost cheerfully. "A girl doesn't get to be Head without learning a few tricks."

"Let me out," Gideon said in a dangerous voice.

"If you really wanted out, you'd already have the door open," she replied.

"Ah," Gideon said, his eyes lighting up with sudden understanding. "A will power spell. But do you really think that your will is stronger than mine, Walker?" his voice was almost derisive.

"In general? I haven't the slightest idea," Lizzie replied casually. "In this particular case? Well, I suppose we're about to find that out, aren't we?" Her voice held a challenge.

Gideon stepped forward until he was standing mere inches away from her, looking quite menacing. "We're going to talk about what happened, Gideon. No matter how many supposedly intimidating scowls you can put on." He said nothing, merely stared at her no less hostilely. After a moment, Lizzie was prepared to take this for a temporary agreement.

"Gideon, I'll admit I haven't been marking your steps well enough these past six years to know if this should mean anything to you. But it meant something to me. I can count the boys I've kissed on one hand. Three fingers is more like it. And none of them felt like that. Only you've made me feel like that," Lizzie sounded aggressive rather than tender as she spelled out her feelings.

"And that's why you can't conceive of it not meaning anything to me," Gideon said in a hard voice.

Suddenly Lizzie was yelling, "I can't conceive of a man that I thought respected me kissing me like that when he doesn't give a damn if I live or die!"

"Of course I give a damn whether you live or die why the flying fuck do you think I'm doing this?!" Gideon exploded, drowning her out. He spun furiously on his heel and made for the door, raising his foot to kick the door down. But before he could touch it, the door flew off its hinges and cracked loudly against the far wall of the corridor. Gideon turned to look at Lizzie who looked quite alarmed at his display of accidental magic. Or maybe it was his words.

A second later she had apparently recovered. "Gideon!" she shouted as she ran out into the corridor, sliding on a sliver of wood as she did so. It would have been a nasty fall if Gideon hadn't roughly caught and righted her. Before he released her arm from his very tight and almost painful grasp, she said, "The castle's empty, everyone's at the match. Who are you afraid will see?"

There was a moment of hesitation as their eyes met when Gideon was processing what she meant. The next second he was kissing her forcefully, nothing at all like their timid and tender first kiss. The next thing that she knew she was pinned up against the wall as he continued to kiss her fiercely, holding her still every time she attempted to break away.

After a long moment, he pulled away, still holding her to the wall. "Is that what you wanted?" he released her and she slid down the wall an inch or so before she rested firmly on her feet again, shaking and drained from the force of Gideon's kiss. "Now leave me alone, Walker." It was an exciting game. Even the Gryffindors, who were rather torn over who to support when a Ravenclaw victory would mean they would have to beat them by a much greater margin to win the Quidditch Cup but supporting Slytherin felt wrong on so many levels, had enjoyed it immensely. In fact, almost the entire House had stayed in the Common Room to discuss it. Ravenclaw would be celebrating and Slytherin would be hiding in shame to emerge only when their smug looks could be pasted on again. That left Hufflepuffs if they wanted to venture out into the areas common to all of the Houses. While not generally a bad sort, Hufflepuffs tended to form very close groups within their House that left looking for friends outside it quite unnecessary.

As was inevitable at every mass gathering of Gryffindors, there was a call for Marissa's latest magic tricks which she gladly graced the cheering crowd with after submitting to several spells to keep her from using magic. Although they'd seen most of them, all but one really, everyone cheered loudly at what had become her customary finale: performing what with a wand would be a simple levitation charm on an Exploding Snap card and spinning it around her body and from her hand. Just before it exploded with a pop she tossed it up into the air so that the explosion took place over her head.

Afterwards, she left the thick of Quidditch fans and gossipers and made her way across the Common Room to where Remus Lupin sat on one of the few more isolated couches. "Sitting all alone, Remus?" she said as she plopped down next to him.

"Not anymore," Remus replied. "So you have your pick of anyone in Gryffindor Tower to approach after that stunning display that proves Muggles more ingenuous than wizards, why did you choose someone like me?"

"You're the kind of person I can rely on to be there when everyone else gets tired of just smoke and mirrors," Marissa answered with a smile.

Marissa sighed and settled further back into the cushions of the couch. Despite years of wear everything in the Gryffindor Common Room was so wonderfully comfortable. Everything in her house was was stiff and didn't give an inch when she sat down. It was probably because of how many people had sat down on them, as opposed to her house where none of the chairs were properly worn-in even after almost a decade in the same spot.

"I was watching you during the match today," Remus broke the silence. Marissa looked over at him, "You don't like Quidditch, do you?"

"No more than you do, Remus," Marissa answered honestly with a small smile.

"Am I that obvious?" he groaned in slight alarm.

"Only to someone who wasn't watching the match with bated breath," Marissa laughed. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Remus tried not to blanch.

Apparently he failed. "What? That worried your friends would turn on you if they knew the truth?"

"No, they're so loyal they could be Hufflepuffs if they weren't so brilliant," Remus said staunchly.

Marissa tried to look stern at his stereotypical joke but was grinning despite herself. "So what? Just afraid of being left alone in the Tower for a morning?"

"Why don't you tell me your reasons," Remus countered. "After all, you are the one who pretends with a vengeance. Imagine you and Lily starting that Booster Club when as it turns out neither of you likes Quidditch!"

"It's not so unreasonable when you think about it," Marissa replied calmly. "We started the Squad so that we'd have something to do during the matches. We were both friends with James back then, so it wasn't as if we could weasel our way out of them. As it turns out, herding an insanely large group of crazy girls and shouting almost embarassing rhymes can be quite a good way to pass the time. And it's not like we have no House spirit, that is genuine excitement when we win. This way we can experience the euphoria of winning without having to endure hours of tedium beforehand. That and no one suspects. You're the first person in six years to figure me out."

"I suppose I wasn't so clever, how long have you known about me?" Remus asked curiously.

"Last year, when you made up excuses to miss two matches, one of them even a Gryffindor one," Marissa replied. "Obviously false ones too if I do say so, should I be giving you lessons in lying rather than dancing?" She looked over at him and sat up straighter in alarm, "Oh Remus, I'm so sorry!"

"What? Why?" he said, pulling himself out of the panic that he had experienced with great difficulty. The real reason hadn't been his dwindling interest, but his lycanthropy. And the idea that she could see through him so easily was more than a little alarming. Marissa Fletcher must not know. Any other secret of his or the Marauder's she was welcome to, but not that. He couldn't lose her as a friend. And even if he could have been convinced that she wouldn't turn on him, he remembered the look of horror on Sirius's face when James and Peter worked it out. And as a Muggleborn, she could never think of a werewolf as anything but a monster. The way she had blanched when she learned that they were real in Defense Against the Dark Arts third year!

"You looked so upset, did I offend you somehow?" she sounded worried and self-reproaching.

"Oh, no, I'm just disappointed that I was so obvious," Remus lied (he hoped) smoothly.

"Are you sure?" she pressed.

"Yes," he insisted firmly. Thinking it time for a change in subject, he added, "So tell me, why did Lily bail out of the club before she started hating James?"

"We both almost did," Marissa confessed. "It's actually rather sickening to see the mass histeria that he evokes among the female population of this school, him and Sirius both. It doesn't do their raging egos any good, that's for sure. And it's also the reason that I stayed with it."

"To contain it?"

"Only in part," Marissa leaned closer, speaking conspiratorily. "You see, I've been working on project DJE, Deflate James's Ego, for some time now. Obviously the subtle stuff won't work and as Lily's proved spectacularly, pointing out his flaws doesn't do a heck of a lot of good either. So I'm trying, as a kind of last ditch effort, to go so overboard that he realizes that he's not in fact a god at Hogwarts and becomes embarassed by all the attention." Remus snorted. "I didn't say I'd get there by being conservative."

"You know, that actually explains quite a lot," Remus said. "In fact, I think I like you much better now."

"Oh really, how kind, thanks so much."

"No, I mean it. And out of curiousity, just what do you have planned next on the DJE front?" Remus asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

Marissa didn't hesitate a second before answering obtusely, "Just be sure that you don't miss the next Quidditch Match."

"Couldn't afford it," Remus shook his head. "Can't have anyone else catching on to my darkest secret." Prefect meetings had grown distinctly uncomfortable after the infamous Second Kiss. It made Gideon's previous attempts to ignore her look quite passive. Now he refused point blank to respond if she spoke to him, had suggested that they trade off running the meetings week to week to reduce the amount of coordinating they had to do together, and bluntly refused to look in her direction whenever they were in the same room. Even if it was the person next to her who was speaking.

Lizzie found it unexpectedly lonely running the meeting herself and suddenly understood why Hogwarts always appointed leaders in pairs. It was a daunting task to shoulder alone. So she was relieved enough to have Marissa's support that she didn't bat an eye at her rather outrageous plan on the Cheering Up Gideon front. At least she wouldn't have to carry the weight of the meeting on her own, and maybe it would teach Gideon a lesson for leaving her to it in the process.

"All right, I know I've been stalling the last five minutes, but it's time to bite the bullet and get this thing started," Lizzie said.

"Fire away, oh fearless leader," Marissa returned immediately. Nearly everyone else in the room looked slightly baffled by their phrases.

"Since Mr Prewett doesn't seem to have anything to add, I suppose I'll have to step up to the plate."

"It's a right Kodak moment, your first meeting handled alone."

"I just know this is going to trigger rambling."

"Until you sound like a broken record."

"It's a domino effect. It's a roll of the dice to trust me with anything."

"Hey, that's no fair! Two at once! For that, you'll be sleeping with the fishes tonight."

Although after that Lizzie settled to the agenda, only two people understood the majority of what was said all meeting long. Marissa and Lizzie. Afterward, a very disgruntled collection of prefects spilled out into the hallway, a by no means cheered up Gideon in the lead. He was just about to walk out of earshot when he heard Tirone Quirrell, the sixth year Slytherin prefect mutter to David Saylor, "What else did you expect from a girl like that? Truth be told, I'm surprised this pathetic excuse for a Head Girl hasn't devolved into talking nothing but nonsense before. Stupid Mudbloods, the both of them. What could ever have possessed Dumbledore to make a stupid Mudblood Head Girl? He must have gone batty."

Gideon whirled, in one glance taking in the smug smirk on Quirrell's face and the shock and hurt on the faces of Marissa and Lizzie who had obviously overheard. The next thing that anyone knew, Gideon's hand was at Tirone's throat and he was being thrown up against the wall. Gideon's angry voice rang through the corridor, as he shouted fiercely, punctuating some of his words but banging Quirrells' head against the stone wall. "Shut that gaping hole in your face you slimy, gutless little weasel! Anna Jacobs Prewett was Muggle-born and she was almost as great a Head Girl as Elizabeth Catherine Walker! And if I ever, ever hear you say anything like that again I swear I'll make you wish you had never been born into a family of such bigoted, hypocritical, pitiful rejects and lived to express such an opinion! You spineless, brainless, worthless little snake."

With a final violent shake, Gideon dropped Tirone to the ground and walked over to Marissa and Lizzie still radiating anger. So much so that he was unable to repress it as he told them forcefully, "And if either of you ever let something that those rejects say hurt you, you're even stupider than they are." And with that he walked off.

The instant he was around the corner, Lizzie turned to Marissa. "I stand in awe," she said quietly. Then her voice grew excited, "You got him out of his daze! You're brilliant! Thank you, Riss!"

"I didn't think it would work quite that well," she admitted. "Sorry, Tirone. Thank you for doing this, and I am sorry that you almost got killed for it. Not what I expected, I assure you."

Quirrell laughed, "I owed you one, Fletcher. But we are definitely even after that one! Man, I thought he was going to put my head through the wall!" Marissa, Lizzie, and Remus laughed, ignoring the stares of the rest of the prefects who hadn't been clued into their plan. Quirrell was Marissa's favorite of all the Slytherin prefects, seeming to possess an appreciation for right and wrong even if he was very preoccupied with the study of the Dark Arts. Instead of being alarmed by this interest as she often was in others of his House, Marissa merely considered that he would make a great Defense professor someday.

"C'mon, Riss, I've had enough politics for one day," Remus said ushering her off toward the Grounds where the other Marauders and even Lily had agreed to meet them after the meeting was over. He fully intended to spend the afternoon getting Lily and Marissa to explain the myriad of phrases that he had heard in the past hour. Afterall, considering they were all in the world he had grown up in, shouldn't he be the one explaining what things meant to them all the time? He'd never understand how with Marissa and Lily it always seemed to be the other way around.

©KatyMulvaney6-21-2004


	8. Rat Race

**Chapter Eight  
Rat Race**

That bloody stupid animal! If Peter wasn't the reasonable Marauder, he would think that the wretched demon creature was in league with Black!

When had Sirius become "Black" to him? Was it to avoid the guilt? Oh screw it; he didn't have time for this debate. He had to find the snowoman. Thanks to Lily that dratted "cat" wouldn't be able to find him there. Sirius probably wouldn't even be able to find him there, even if he stole the Map from Lupin up at the Castle. Lily had transfigured the place into a safe zone, where no one could enter if they meant harm to any within and was universally Unplottable, even on the great Marauder's Map. He would be safe, unless Black was already there. Oh screw it, it was his only chance to get away from this confounded cat! He wouldn't stay there long. After all, Lupin could come down any minute.

The monstrosity was barreling down on him and he was still fifty feet away. Not a terribly long run as a human, even for Peter, but it was almost a mile to a rat. With the cat of every rat's nightmares fast on his tail, it was then he took his first risk in thirteen years. He transformed.

It happened agonizingly slowly, he had spent so many years as a rat, but he at last felt his two feet hit the ground solidly. Or at least as solidly as could be expected when he was so used to running on four legs. He staggered toward the clearing, scarcely seeming to go faster than before as the hissing and now doubly furious cat still pursued him. So it didn't just want to eat him. Could the thing be in league with Black? A "cat" and a "dog?"

Then Peter had reached the clearing and collapsed at the snowoman's feet, hearing the furious hisses of the beast who indeed could not enter the place. If it was in league with Black, he would know instantly what had happened. Would he be enraged at Peter's gall? Safe from the mad beast, Peter changed back into his rat form. His too long languishing human muscles were screaming in protest at the abrupt change after so many years. After thirteen years as a pet rat, could he ever be comfortable as anything else? This was what he was now.

He looked up at the face of the snowoman, towering above him. In this form, it looked almost imposing rather than peaceful. Peter reverted to his human form, but the impression remained. Marissa was frowning down upon him, looking at him with great disappointment behind her closed eyelids. He had thought that changing his form would remove the horrible impression, but it remained. It's just lingering guilt talking, man. Come on, fight it! You've done it before!

There was a brief struggle, and for a moment Peter thought he had won. Then the words came tumbling out of his mouth, the plea he would have made to a living Marissa, "I never wanted to be a Death Eater," he said in a rush. "I had no choice. They would have killed her. They would have killed me. I would have lived my life surrounded by Dementors; I could have been Kissed."

The snowoman seemed to say the words aloud in her mild tone, "But it was all right for Sirius to suffer that?" Marissa's voice in his head was too much for his shaky defenses.

"You don't understand! Please! You must understand! I couldn't go! I couldn't! Sirius was strong, he could survive it, but I couldn't! Not knowing what I had done!" Peter felt himself begin to sob and hated himself for it. "And before, to relive his death every single day! To relive that choice! Never knowing if they let her live! You can't judge me!"

The snowoman's silence was worse than her nearly vocal reply. It ate at Peter. "When I told him of Trelawney's prophecy, I had no idea it would set him on Harry! I wanted to distract him from Sirius and James and Lily! If he had bigger fish to fry then I wouldn't have to betray them yet! I didn't want to do it! I thought it was the Longbottoms he would go after! I didn't even know that Lily was pregnant yet! How could I? Please, please you must believe me! Can't you . . . " his voice was very small and broken, "Can't you of all people believe me?"

But the snowoman was silent. _? _

Peter hung his head. "You were the one who said that loyalty was the difference between a monster and an enemy. Which am I now?"?

Twas the night before the Easter Holidays and all through the castle,  
Many creatures were stirring and causing a rat quite a hassle.  
When they should have been snuggled all safe in their beds,  
Visions of capture danced in their heads.  
While through the corridors the rat darted, into shadows he dove,  
And all through the castle his trail slowly wove.  
And what wandering eyes sought this beast  
But a miniature caretaker, eight friends, and one not a friend in the least.  
Through the castle and grounds ran this great chase,  
While the rat tried to find a safe place.  
But each way he turned another pursued,  
Until he knew he was royally screwed.  
And what else should occur on this night not to be missed,  
but a final word between those who had kissed.

_Twas the night before the Easter Holidays . . . _

"For a girl who hasn't been truly happy since her brother left Hogwarts, you'd think that you'd be more excited that you get to see him again tomorrow," Lily remarked with slight concern at her friend's mood. She and Marissa were both stretched out on their beds waving their wands to summon items to them then banishing them neatly into their suitcases (cleverly transfigured trunks). Anytime that Lily missed, Marissa deftly levitated it into her suitcase.

However, Lily was quite right that there was a distinct lack of enthusiasm about Marissa's spells, causing the summoned and banished clothing, makeup, shoes, etc. to move very slowly. She exhaled loudly at Lily's comment. "I am, I am, I mean . . . " she trailed off into silence. "I want to see Gus again; I really do. That's all I've wanted since he left but . . . I'm afraid when I get there nothing will have changed." There was a long pause before she added, "And almost equally afraid that everything will have changed."

"I know this isn't going to sound very encouraging at first, Riss, but hear me out," Lily said, shifting her position on the bed to face Marissa more comfortably. "You may never know if you made the right decision. Sometimes things like that are clear, and sometimes circumstances aren't so kind. You may never know if it was right, but you made a decision that you'll have to live with. And that's what you're afraid to go home and face. The thing is, Riss, you made your decision out of love, so while you may never be sure if it was the right one, it will never be wrong."

Marissa was silent for a long moment while she digested this. "Say that to yourself this week whenever you feel guilty for encouraging Petunia about Hogwarts," she said at last.

"If she messes up Dennis's visit at the end of the week, believe me, the last thing I'll do is feel guilty about that little nuisance!" Lily exclaimed hotly.

"Slow down, Lils, she hasn't even done anything yet," Marissa laughed.

"Oh but I know she will," Lily said darkly. "And that reminds me, I'm going to be coming in late tonight, Dennis and I are meeting after curfew as it's our last night to see each other until next Saturday."

"Do me a favor before you leave then, draw your curtains like you're sleeping. That way when I get in late after supervising that detention that Lizzie assigned Gideon for fighting with Tirone I can honestly say that it looked like you were already in bed when I arrived," Marissa said casually. "I make a point of keeping my honor as prefect pure."

"Yes, the girl who sicced the entire female Gryffindor population on Potter's underwear drawer," Lily snorted.

"If I recall, I was never formally charged or punished. My entire conversation with McGonagall was hypothetical," Marissa insisted staunchly.

"I am going to miss you this week, no one but you can get away with being so delightfully hypocritical," Lily laughed, casting her friend a sideways glance, as she sent her schoolbooks zooming into the suitcase to rest lightly atop her Mugglewear.

The Marauders, on the other hand, certainly wouldn't pack for the 8:00 train until 7:50 tomorrow morning. They'd wake up at 7:49 of course. James and Remus might wait until 7:54 and make a rush to the station, James even adding speed to his run courtesy of his swifter stag form. That is, unless Marissa had gotten in to tinker with their alarm clocks again. That was the main reason that they had convened in their dorm room, finding it unfairly exclusive not to mention inadequate security to merely place a guard.

"So, off to the vultures tomorrow," James said as he lazily pulled out a Snitch he had officially Commandeered for Quidditch Practice earlier in the afternoon.

All three of his fellow Marauders chunked pillows at him, "Oh shut your pie hole, you've got the easiest time of any of us!" Sirius expressed their shared sentiment.

"Are you kidding? No magic for a whole week? I'll come back as rusty as a second-year!"

Three more pillows were thrown at him, this time not lobbed. "I'd trade you any day, if you take me up on it I might actually get a wink of sleep on this 'vacation' we're embarking on," Peter said sourly.

"And if you'd rather attend the prissy social engagements my parents have lined up for me, be my guest," Remus added, casting a long-suffering glance at the dress robes his parents had sent him a few weeks ago.

"And if any of you want to be hounded about your House, ridiculed for your reluctance to join the side of pure evil, and endure in silence every bigoted, biting comment directed toward our two female Gryffindor friends (in particular), just let me know and you can be Sirius Black for the day," Sirius all but growled.

"Oh but you're all forgetting one thing," James said pointedly. They all turned to him, "I'm going to put on three pounds with all the cakes Mum's going to force on me!"

All three of his friends found heavier objects to throw at him, which only his Quidditch-toned reflexes allowed him to neatly dodge. "Based on your reaction to a simple comment," James said, ducking Remus's Muggle Studies book, "And the fact that we're all going our separate and apparently unhappy ways tomorrow, I think this calls for a night out."

"That's the only sensible thing you've said all afternoon," Sirius proclaimed. James, mistakenly taking this for a cease-fire, caught Sirius's dress loafers (only use he ever got out of them) in the face. "Capital idea, Prongs," he said casually as if his shoe hadn't just nearly knocked his best friend over. "We should send Wormtail to investigate that portrait, Sir Cadogan. You know whatever the teachers would hide behind such an annoying portrait has to be good."

"Only one problem with your theory, Padfoot," Remus pointed out reasonably, "Wormtail's never felt a draft or heard an echo there for all your banging about. In fact, we've found no evidence of a hidden room or passage at all."

"Only proves to what lengths they've gone to hide it. Even more worth our trouble to crack," Sirius insisted stoutly.

In the Heads Room, Gideon and Lizzie were working in a petrified silence. The place felt like a tomb, the scratching of quills positively deafening, the drops of ink hitting the parchment like whips at their backs. Gideon had forced open all the windows, even the one that had been stubbornly stuck down all year, and Lizzie had bewitched several spare pieces of furniture to act like a Muggle fan, but the air was still so stifling they could hardly breathe.

"Okay, that's it," Lizzie at long last said too loudly into the echoing silence. "I'm not going to do this anymore. We need to talk this out now."

As if she hadn't spoken, Gideon said calmly, "I think I'd get more work done in the Ravenclaw Common Room for all it's bedlam there. I imagine the Gryffindor one is worse however, so I encourage you to remain." He began gathering up his papers.

"You can't ignore this forever, Gideon, look what it's doing to us! Whatever you're afraid of, how is this better?"

"Walker, I am about to enjoy a stress filled, guilt-ridden week ensconced in a high security facility of my now neurotic as well as grieving brother's choice, and I'm looking forward to it as a blissful vacation. Why, you ask? Because I won't have to deal with the dreaded pronoun 'us' on your lips or attempt to hide from the stalker you've sicced on me who is getting far too creative in her methods," Gideon said without a shred inflection in his voice, sounding almost as if he intended to be cruel. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to start the holidays early by getting out of your company instantly."

Lizzie said nothing until the door closed with a click behind him. "I'll see you tonight, Gideon."

Severus Snape knew that those pathetic Marauders were up to something. They had confined themselves to Gryffindor Tower all afternoon and word had it they hadn't emerged from their room in hours. This could mean only one thing. They were plotting something. And as the Easter Holidays started tomorrow (Merlin knows Snape was looking forward to that) it had to be tonight. That and that crew of blithering idiots couldn't think too far ahead to save their lives. And that was the exact thing that it would cost them someday.

But for now, Snape would settle for expulsion. And if he had anything to say about it, tonight would be the night that they paid that price for their arrogance and foolhardiness. If he had anything to say about it, this would be the Moroners last night at Hogwarts. Yes, Snape liked the sound of that. It fit the crew of idiots too. It was just too bad he'd never get to use it on them, because this was the last time he would have to see their arrogant faces. The blonde flibbertigibbet and the redheaded scarlet woman could wait for another day. He'd get rid of all those pesky Gryffindors yet!

_And all through the castle . . . _

The Marauders weren't unduly foolhardy, but crowding three under that Invisibility Cloak was just not comfortable and certainly left no room for the stress-reliever that this night was intended to be. They were careful, however. They didn't want to color an already almost universally painful week ahead with a referral to their parents and about a month of detentions. Peter, in his rat form quite safe from detection, went ahead and came back to warn them if the caretaker Benjy Fenwick or one of the teachers was coming. In turn, they kept a close watch out for cats. 

It wasn't the fastest way to move through the castle, but it allowed them to walk more comfortably about. In this way, they made their meandering way up to the North Tower.

Lily waited outside of the Hufflepuff Common Room getting more and more apprehensive with each passing moment. She had stopped being nervous around Dennis weeks ago, but not even Marissa had convinced her to sneak out after curfew enough times for her to be comfortable with the idea. The worst thing was, it was her idea. That was why she was standing in front of a gargoyle that was looking more and more imposing by the second in the shadowy corridor when all the candles that usually lighted the halls had already been extinguished. Lights out. Out of Bounds. When had she become this kind of person? And where was Dennis? What was he playing at? Could he have been discovered? Could he have chosen tonight of all nights to decide he didn't want to date her after all? Didn't he at least have the decency to come out here and tell her if he -

But just then, the gargoyle leapt aside and the next thing she knew, good old faithful Dennis Wemmick was coming out to greet her with a winning smile on his face. It was not the treacherous smirk of a Marauder, but a genuinely pleased and warm smile. It was perfect, Lily decided in that moment. "So, where are we off to?" Lily asked sounding decidedly more girlish than she would have liked.

But Dennis put his finger over her lips hurried but gently. "Sh," he warned. "The next gargoyle over is Dumbledore's office." Lily's eyes bulged until she felt like they were going to pop out of her head.

Once they were a safe distance away, she hissed, "Then why on earth did you have me meet you there of all places?" she demanded furiously.

"Because I'd take facing Dumbledore on this little excursion over those Marauders of yours any day," Dennis said with a laugh.

"They're not my Marauders," Lily said testily. This wasn't going the way it was supposed to go. Severus Snape stole out of the Slytherin Common Room with considerable finesse, if he did say so himself. Those wretched Moroners relied on damned fool luck rather than skill in their pathetic little trouble making attempts. For all their bluster and brag they lacked real creativity and flair. That and basic magical skills. They probably had no idea that there was a potion that would make you temporarily undetectable. Not that they could properly brew it even if they did know of its existence.

He carefully tucked the spare vial in the right pocket of his robes (the left had a rather large hole at the bottom of it) in case it took him too long to catch the amateurs. Not bloodly likely.

But while those Moroners were arrogant and reckless, Snape was careful. And methodical. Methodical to a fault. "Good evening, Gideon," Marissa cried in a sunny voice as she slid down the ladder she had scaled just before the Head Boy stumbled into the Trophy Room. She displayed the bucket full of polishing tools that she had climbed up to retrieve. Gideon gave her a sour look. "I hope you're in a good mood, because it looks like we're both here for the long haul."

"First of all," Gideon said in a voice that made it quite plain that he was not in a good mood, "You are in far too good a mood for someone who's about to stay up half the night doing grunt work, or at least supervising it though I think that you got off easy on that one. And secondly, considering that the reason I got this detention was because I was defending you, don't you think that you should take it easy on me out of gratitude?"

"Gratitude?" Marissa said cheerfully but as if it were a foreign concept. "For flying off at the handle after weeks of refusing to speak civilly to me or Lizzie?"

Gideon's face suddenly became quite fierce. "So that's what this is about. Still playing matchmaker, are you Fletcher? How are your other pairs flourishing, may I ask? Lily and James are going on, what is it now? When do you get it through your head that it's time to throw in the towel?"

"Speaking of towels," Marissa said as if she had heard nothing else, "Here's one for you to get started with. Happy cleaning. And do try not to take all night, I, for one, am scheduled so that I can sleep on the train tomorrow if I patrol on the one coming back, but I believe you and Lizzie have to work the entire ride, isn't that right?"

Gideon ripped the supplies out of her hands with the full force of his anger and stalked over to the large and intimidating pile of trophies that little Benjy Fenwick, the caretaker, had designated as in desperate need of elbow grease.

_Many creatures were stirring . . . _

Benjy Fenwick had been the caretaker of Hogwarts for a long time. Long enough to endure no less than 75 long running jokes and nicknames playing on his short stature and unwavering enthusiasm for order and cleanliness. He considered catching students out at night the least enjoyable of his tasks. 

But in all the years that the now ancient caretaker had labored against the inevitable clutter and grime of the great castle, he had rarely seen a night that kept him more active than this. No sooner had he satisfied that there was in fact no one skulking about in the dungeons (that place always gave him the willies anyway; it was probably just the Bloody Baron being, well, the Bloody Baron for Merlin's sake) than he had to scurry up to the North Tower to deal with a possible outing by the students. Of course, by the time that he checked that the two who had brazenly taken over the trophy room were in fact detentionite and his supervisor and double-checked two corridors for renegades, any would-be culprits were long gone or well-warned of his approach.

Benjy Fenwick let out a long suffering sigh. Record breakouts, sounds emanating from a perfectly legal pair to confuse him, and all that he could find from any of it was a rat who seemed to be watching him far too closely. Benjy hated rats. They messed up everything. It was going to be a long night. "Why is Hufflepuff Tower there anyway?" Lily said angrily and quite unreasonably as well. "Isn't Hufflepuff the House that -" She stopped when she noticed Dennis's scowl. "That . . . well, that the teachers trust the most?"

"You mean the most boring? The least fun? What were you going to say, Lily?" Dennis said, his anger showing in the tightness of his voice. No, no, no, no, no, this was definitely not how it was supposed to go. Lily opened her mouth to protest, but before she could find the words, Dennis cut her off, "For your information, the reason that Dumbledore's Office's entrance is the gargoyle adjacent to Hufflepuff Dorm's is because the first Headmistress of Hogwarts was not Godric Gryffindor -" he said that name derisively "- but Helga Hufflepuff. And she wanted to be close to her house."

"Dennis, I'm sorry," Lily tried desperately, grabbing onto his hand when he began to walk away. It took her a good minute to realize that he wasn't walking back toward his dormitory. "I was just upset to learn that I had been standing directly outside Dumbledore's Office for the past ten minutes! Wouldn't you? I was paranoid enough when I thought that only a Hufflepuff teacher was likely to walk by!"

"Will you stop calling it Hufflepuff Tower?" Dennis said, but his voice had returned to normal, his anger abated. "Maybe Gryffindors have a whole tower, but Hufflepuffs do not! Just three floors near the top of the castle, thank you very much." Then, almost like a side note, "I understand, Lily. I'm sorry. I just got defensive. The rest of the Gryffindors in your year are so arrogant. I just couldn't bear the thought that they had rubbed off on you."

"Marissa's not!" Lily cried indignantly. No, no, she hadn't meant to say that now! Not when they were just getting over fighting! "And Peter and Remus aren't really so bad -"

"Open your eyes, Lily," Dennis said in what was almost a growl and strode quickly away before she could ask him to elaborate.

Lily ran after him and the moment she caught his hand used it to swing him so that he hit the wall. Dennis Wemmick, half a head taller than the by no means short Lily, saw her tower over him in her anger, "First of all, with the exception of James Potter, all these people that you are talking about are my friends, my friends of five years! I may not agree with everything that they do and I certainly don't like everything about them, but they mean a hell of a lot more to me than anyone else in my life and probably more than anyone else who will ever be in my life. So keep whatever ignorant things you think about them to yourself around me! Because I know that they aren't as shallow and stupid as they appear!" Lily took a deep breath to replenish her lungs after her spot of yelling. Dennis was too shocked to jump in. "And secondly," she began to yell but her voice instantly lost her volume and intensity when she continued, "This was not how this night was supposed to go."

She hung her head sadly and immediately felt Dennis encircle her with his arms. "I'm sorry, Lily. You're right. I don't know them, and you do. I'm sorry." After that, Lily relaxed against him, letting him sway them back and forth until she almost felt like going to sleep. She tilted her head up just in time to see that Dennis had started to lower his head a second earlier. Lily smiled, they really clicked. She and Dennis were right. She knew it.

They had to be.

Then, thankfully, their lips met before Lily could ponder too closely what lay under that last thought. She sighed when the kiss ended. This was how the night was supposed to go. "Damn, that was close," Sirius said when the Map showed that the caretaker had meandered down enough flights of stairs for them to breathe easily again. "Try to give us more than three seconds warning next time, eh Wormtail?" The rat that was his friend just stared up at him reprovingly.

"Maybe if you hadn't gotten it stuck in your pocket, it wouldn't have been so close a call," James retorted. "Why do you have it anyway? Give me the Cloak." Everyone was always testy after a close call.

"Years of loyalty, Prongs, and this is how much you trust me?" Sirius demanded. "Oh fine, oh ye fair-weather friends," Sirius said, hurling it at James.

"Let's just get to the portrait so the two madmen can exchange their conversation for the night," Remus said equally grumpily as he pushed onward. "Lead the way, Wormtail."

After giving him a reproving look for the nickname, the rat scurried on ahead. The three boys exchanged a shrug and went back to their jocularity as if the argument had never happened. "I don't think you got that one," Marissa chose to say just as Gideon had scaled the ladder and was about to place the trophy in its proper place. Gideon stared down at her in surprise. "I see a spot on it," she said casually in explanation.

"Oh? Do you?" Gideon said and, without warning, dumped the bucket of suds down over her head. Marissa shrieked as it hit her, throwing up her arms just in time to spare her face the brunt of the blow. "I think I got the spot out," Gideon laughed. Marissa did too, shaking her head up at him reprovingly.

"If anyone else had done that on detention," Marissa said in a warning voice, stressing the final word. Then she turned abruptly and looked at the entrance to the room that, from his height, it was difficult to see beyond. "Oh good, your timing is impeccable. Why don't you watch him while I go and clean myself up?" Marissa said to the person just beyond the archway that Gideon would bet a thousand galleons he knew the identity of.

"You minxes!" he yelled, leaping down from the ladder and falling grandly on his butt when he slipped in the spuds he had dropped on his captor. Marissa gave a snort and Lizzie Walker was trying very hard and failing not to laugh. Gideon was by no means calmed by this. Now he was injured and furious. "You little - there isn't even a word for it!"

"Really?" Marissa said with an impish smile on her face, "Because I can come up with brilliant, wise . . . " Gideon made a loud sound of disgust. "Or crafty, devious, manipulative if you prefer the negative view."

"That's bloody well it, I'm not staying here another minute," Gideon replied angrily getting to his feet, his dramatic exit marred immediately by the fact that he nearly slipped again.

"You still have a detention to complete," Lizzie said in a soft but firm voice.

"A bullshit detention that you two harpies arranged!" Gideon exploded on her.

"But a detention nonetheless," Marissa replied unfazed.

"What are you two, sharing a brain?" he snapped as they moved together to block his escape. "Get out of my way."

However, the minute he stepped over the threshold of the trophy room, he was flung back into the room. "You have not been dismissed by your Detention Overseer!" a very loud voice boomed.

"Bloody hell, you two are dead," Gideon cried, turning back to them. Severus Snape was making plans to eviscerate someone, and for once it wasn't James Potter and his motley crew. It was that incompetent moron Benjy Fenwick. It was vital to Snape's plan to string the old caretaker along until he could find the Pot-bellied group. But the stupid midget of a Muggle scampered off as if he hadn't heard a thing! Just what he needed, a deaf reject on patrol duty! But Potter wouldn't have a reprieve for long. No, no, Snape would merely rearrange his agenda. Find Potter, then string him along to the caretaker. There was more than one way to skin a cat, especially one that fashioned itself a lion. Making as much noise as possible in the hopes of catching the idiot caretaker's attention, he set off after the Moroners. He stopped briefly when he heard a disturbance in the trophy room, but it was only the Head Boy and those two blonde Mudblood harpies who had attached themselves at the hip lately. Wouldn't the redhead be jealous?

Wasn't it all just sickening? He would get rid of the worst of them tonight!

_And causing a rat quite a hassle . . . _

Benjy Fenwick was on his last nerve when he heard the disembodied voice yelling at the Head Boy of all people to complete his detention. What was this school coming to? And he could have sworn he had heard yelling up by Dumbledore's office of all places. Since when did those Hufflepuffs cause this kind of trouble? And Peeves seemed to have taken it into his head to follow him around, trying to lure him up the stairs to the North Tower again. Where he wasn't altogether unwilling to go, considering he didn't believe for a minute that there wasn't anyone lurking up there somewhere. 

He was at the end of his rope when he saw that dratted rat again. That was why Benjy Fenwick snapped when it just stared at him, then walked off as if it owned the castle. With a battle cry he had long forgotten he once uttered quite often in the days of Grindewald, the miniature caretaker sprang after the horrid pest. "You heard the bloody voice! Give me permission to leave now!" Gideon roared, looming over Marissa.

She didn't give an inch. Then the voice barked again, "You shall not threaten your Detention Overseer!"

"I wasn't even threatening her!" Gideon hollered back at the doorway as if he expected to see someone there.

"You were about to!" it argued back crisply.

"Oh this is unbelievable!" Gideon shouted throwing up his hands. His mood was not in the least improved by the fact that Marissa in particular seemed to be only barely holding back her uncontrollable laughter.

"You shall serve your detention in a polite manner!" the voice barked for the last time. With that, Marissa exploded. Gideon had never given anyone so furious a look, but Fletcher was completely unscathed. He realized he hadn't glanced once at Lizzie since she had entered. Good, keep it that way.

While he had this debate with himself, Marissa had pulled herself together enough to speak, "So has the voice given you the impression yet that there's only one way out of this detention?"

"I can't for the life of me imagine what that would be," Gideon said sarcastically. "This is blatant abuse of prefect status and undermines the entire detention system. If you think I'm not reporting you to McGonagall you're dead wrong."

"Oh yes, tell her how you tried repeatedly to escape your detention before fulfilling the requirement and 'threatened your Detention Overseer'?" Marissa said pointedly. Gideon just stared at her. "Now, the only way that you can get out of here without my express permission is to polish that entire pile of trophies and plaques. However, if you were to be honest with your fellow Head about why you've been avoiding her, I might be willing to send you on your merry way and wave my wand at the trophies . . . "

"You are pure evil, and this is extortion," Gideon snarled.

"Shall I interpret that as 'I desperately want to stay here all night doing grunt work' or 'It's high time I was honest with you anyway, Lizzie'?"

Before Gideon could formulate a reply, Benjy Fenwick burst into the Trophy Room. "Did you see where he went!" he hollered looking quite mad and beside himself as he skidded to a stop just before crashing into the pile. A second later, a rat emerged on the other side of them and with a rather disturbing war cry, the caretaker was after it. The rat seemed to possess almost an intelligence for dodging through trophies and other scattered debris at just the right moment to best trip up the old caretaker. And how on earth had it known to run over that spill?

"Prewett! Help me catch that wretched mouse! I can magic the trophies clean!" he cried as he got to his feet after falling spectacularly on his bottom.

"But Benjy!" Marissa cried in an agonized voice.

Before she could say anything, the caretaker and Gideon were out of the trophy room, and the rat was halfway down the next corridor. Marissa and Lizzie exchanged a glance, then hurried off after them. Watching Sirius and Sir Cadogan go at it was easily the most entertaining thing that the Marauders had seen since Valentine's Day and Lily's crane. But Merlin forbid that any of them suggest that he give up. His answer was a determined, "We've gotten every picture and statue in this castle to give up their password, most of them their universal password, not that it matters since Wormtail figured out how to change the password on the map if you know one, but that's still damn impressive. I will not be thwarted by the most ridiculous knight since Sir Pelinore!"

"Who?" James demanded.

"King Arthur's childhood friend and mentor, a noble man," Sir Cadogan answered. "I see not why you refer to this great man as ridiculous." Before Sirius could muster a response, no one was quite sure what it would be, Cadogan puffed up his chest rather unimpressively and said, "His failure to catch the Beast he chased was unfortunate, but neither have I slain a dragon! That does not make me a failed knight!" Sirius opened his mouth again, "And, I find your attitude insulting and degrading to the Code of Knighthood!"

"Cadogan, I really didn't mean -"

"That is Sir Cadogan to you, you mongrel!" Sir Cadogan said with more dignity than he could usually muster. It ruined his dramatic exit, however, when he tripped spectacularly just before he disappeared beyond the frame.

Sirius only had time to let out a gusty sigh of disappointment before all hell broke loose. From the next room over where Peter was standing guard came the war cry of the quiet, friendly, small-statured caretaker. "Was that Benjy?" Sirius cried in surprise. With that they all made a dive for the discarded Cloak

Put delicately to shield their fragile if gargantuan egos, the Marauders were caught unawares and reacted with adequate speed. Put honestly, to protect the room space left for everyone else in with their swelled heads, the boys panicked and barely managed to hide in time. As it was, Remus didn't get under the Invisibility Cloak and finally dove behind a statue. There was one thought running through their minds. Oh crap. Bloody hell. Merlin's beard. With varying means of expressing that thought. How in the world were they going to keep Peter away from Benjy? How did this night go so wrong?

With a collective shrug, they took off after the mad caretaker, going as quickly as they could without revealing themselves.

At least, they managed to prevent anyone visible from seeing them take off after the caretaker. Not that Severus Snape could make heads or tails of their actions. And why wasn't Peter with them? And why the hell did that blasted caretaker have to go and lose his mind just when he had lured him almost to the main lunatics of the night?

Snape was surrounded by idiots, and not just the Gryffindors this time!

Seething, he followed. The quick kiss had turned into many, which Lily was not protesting in the least. That was why they had snuck out. Though she might have hoped it would be slightly less out in the open. Then again, where was her sense of adventure?

"There's something," Dennis murmured between kisses. "That I've been meaning to give you."

"Really?" Lily said with a smile. "I wonder what it could be?" Thank you, Dennis, for this feeling again. Not love, not like she had loved Sirius certainly, but what she had felt for Sirius at the first. Excitement, nervousness, a spark of something that made her feel beautiful. Even Marissa, the James Potter cheerleader, understood that.

"I think I might keep you in suspense for a little while longer," Dennis said playfully, though he took one of his arms from around her and seemed to be fumbling in his pocket. Lily couldn't suppress her grin; he was perfect. And certainly better than she had thought she would be able to do that first year after the Sirius mess when she realized what a strong deterrent the disfavor of James Potter and the Marauders could be. Do NOT think about them, that's not what's supposed to happen now.

That thought begged a question that Lily wasn't sure she wanted to answer. Just what did Dennis think was supposed to happen tonight?

But before she could see his surprise, he cursed. Looking up at him in surprise, he shrugged at his clumsiness and bent down to reach for it, not quite willing to let go of her just yet and forcing her to stay in his arms with her back to it. She thought this highly unnecessary and shifted out of his grip, though she made no effort to look at whatever Dennis had dropped. Not that it mattered, considering a passing rat caught it on his tail and took off down the hall.

Dennis had no time to absorb this astonishing occurence before he had to grab Lily and dive behind a statue as a clamoring crowd of what looked like madmen led by the caretaker ran screaming after the rat. Dennis and Lily sat up, "Was that Benjy Fenwick and the Head Boy?" he asked in confusion. But before Lily could formulate any kind of response, another pair ran through after them, yelling Gideon and Benjy's names as they pelted after them. Dennis barely managed to pull Lily out of view in time.

He turned to her with a look of acute shock on his face, "Has the whole castle gone crazy or is it just me?" he cried. Hearing footsteps, they both dove under their flimsy cover again. "The Head Girl and your Marissa screaming like banshees now? What on earth is next?" he whispered incredulously.

It was several minutes before they determined that the footsteps had been a false alarm. "Well," Lily said with a laugh, "That was odd."

"Not just that," Dennis said grimly. "That rat got - it."

"It being?" Lily pried with a laugh.

"It being something we need to get back. "Let's go." And with that, Dennis took her hand and yanked her to her feet then nearly off them again with how fast he pulled her down the corridor after them.

_When they should have been snuggled all safe in their beds . . . _

Marissa sincerely hoped two things lest the plan she had so carefully crafted with Lizzie completely go up in smoke. The first was that Gideon did not notice that the clock had struck midnight and the voice had probably gone to sleep for the night, freeing him. The other was that Lizzie did not give up on talking to him, which it was beginning to look like she may do. Taking Lizzie's hand, she pulled her along as the clock chimed twelve times. Just please, please don't let Gideon have something in common with Cinderella! 

Lily's plan, in the meantime, was shot completely to hell. This was definitely how it was supposed to go. That and she was getting sleepy and that was making it harder to run this fast - which they had been doing for far too long in her estimation, stopping every once and awhile because they were getting too close to the two groups ahead of them. All she wanted in the world was to be back safely in Gryffindor Tower. If this was what the castle became when the sun went down no wonder they didn't want students running about! It was madness!

If the fact that Peter could be caught and killed was not heavy on the Marauders' minds they would have found the first class mayhem they were causing uproariously funny. They had been laboring for years to get a proper rise out of the usually sedate though severely overworked caretaker. And when he reacted, he reacted with a vengeance. But even when the Head Boy and Girl and even Marissa was found to be chasing them acting quite crazy, there was the little thing about Peter being fed to a cat to stem their amusement. In fact, they were terrified. This was the worst scrape that they had been in since those boys in the village had dared an outcast to spend a night in the Shrieking Shack and he had almost made it through the threshold. The poor bloke had probably never lived the incident down.

Severus's plan had had to be revised so many times he wondered if he still had one. Basically the way it ran now was wear himself out chasing the Moroners and caretaker who was chasing a rat as part of a nervous breakdown of some sort hoping that if he was there to be the catalyst at the right moment he could make them bump into each other. Or at least reveal to him how those dimwits managed to get around so secretively.

_Visions of capture danced in their heads . . . _

"I hear footsteps," Lily said, freezing where she stood. 

"What, you think you're less visible standing right there?" Dennis snapped in annoyance, yanking her into an alcove. It offered almost no protection, but it was better than nothing.

"What was it anyway?" Lily whispered as they crowded into the alcove.

"How the hell would I know what you heard?" Dennis snapped in annoyance.

"No," Lily said getting rather irritated with him herself. "What that dratted rat took." No no no no no. This was not going the way it was supposed to.

Dennis put his finger over her lips urgently, looking over her head at the room. After a long moment, he said, "I think it's gone. It must have been a ghost."

"A ghost with footsteps?" it slipped out before Lily could suppress it.

Dennis turned back to give her an irritated glance, "Just be glad it wasn't Fenwick."

Lily almost stopped short again. She wondered if she had ever heard anyone call the caretaker by his last name before. Could Dennis possibly have something against Benjy? Sure he would get them in a great deal of trouble if he caught them, but he was such a friendly person if you were out at reasonable hours. Not that Lily wanted to be caught of course. Oh confound it all, she definitely was not supposed to be wondering about his character tonight! While Lily usually kept herself to mild curses even in her own head, Severus Snape suffered no such inhibitions when he began to feel the effects of the potion wearing off and slipped his hand inside his pocket to find that the right pocket was indeed the one with the gaping hole. When the flow of vicious expletives had ceased, he was still fuming and could almost feel himself becoming visible. He uttered another round and allowed himself to fall farther behind the Gryffindors. But he was still following. Not even threat of being caught himself could discourage him. At the very least he would take them down with him.

But in the meantime, all that this meant was that his chase took on a more urgent pace. He had to catch up to that rat while he was still invisible and use it to appease that dratted caretaker so he could show him to the Gryffindors. What a night for the castle to go suddenly insane! The redheaded pretended goody goody throwing away pretenses for a dalliance with the boyfriend that Snape quite approved of for the noble reason that it annoyed Potter, the Head Girl had snuck out to spy on the Head Boy and Marissa, did the jealous lover not trust them? But the long and short of it was, if he could pull this off, he could be rid of the entire Gryffindor population of his year. But then, of course, that was exactly why the seemingly stable Fenwick chose tonight to have a meltdown. "Does Benjy not think it odd that I'm here?" Lizzie said, the first words that she had said all night.

Marissa could truthfully say that she hadn't considered this. Nor had she considered what they were going to do when they caught up to Gideon if they managed to stop him from indulging Benjy's mid-life crisis. Not quite mid-life, but what else could this be? "He isn't exactly concentrating on much else now. If he catches that rat he'll probably be too pleased to notice."

"So hope he doesn't lose track of it and need someone to vent his frustrations on?" Lizzie finished with a weak smile. There was silence except for their labored breathing as they ran along what felt like the hundredth corridor a few yards back from Benjy and Gideon. Then, "Maybe we shouldn't have done this," Lizzie said quietly. "Maybe we should just let matters be."

Marissa skidded to a stop. "Lizzie, don't you think you deserve to know?"

"What if there's nothing to tell, Riss?" she challenged in a very quiet voice, looking down at her feet. "Believe me, in my pride it's the last thing that I want to admit, but maybe it's time."

"Do you not see the way he looks at you when he thinks nobody's looking?" Marissa said in a coaxing voice. She let out a gusty sigh. "I'll send him back to his dorm if that's what you want, Lizzie, but don't you want to know? So you never have to wonder?"

"Hurry along girls!" Benjy shouted, not pausing for a moment.

Marissa looked at her inquiringly. Lizzie smiled a little, "Well that answers the question of whether or not he's noticed that I'm here." It was, simply put, impossible to keep up with Peter and his pursuers under the Invisibility Cloak. They hated to do it, but the Marauders had come out from under their protective covering. After all, they reasoned to themselves, as the person they would least want to see them was ahead of them, a certain location that they could monitor, they did not find it unduly foolhardy. Then again, the Marauders did not consider much unduly foolhardy. With a nod at each other, they set off at a run. They had to rescue Peter.

_While through the corridors the rat darted, into shadows he dove,  
And through the castle his trail slowly wove . . . _

Peter wondered how fast a rat's heart could beat before it imploded. It couldn't be much faster than how it was beating now. What was this Benjy Fenwick, part cat? All cat? So maybe he shouldn't have been playing with him, freaking him out like that. But honestly, the gods of justice couldn't possibly think that this was a fitting punishment. After all, he had to have some fun while his friends were off chatting up Sir Cadogan and he was stuck sitting watch. Peter was tired of being on watch. 

Well he was the center of attention now. Half the castle seemed to be chasing him now, and he couldn't seem to give any of them the slip. Maybe he didn't have it so bad being shunted into the background all the time. Oh what he wouldn't give to be ignored now! And to feel invisible, that would be a most welcome gift at this particular moment with the caretaker and Head Boy baring down on him, Prewett clever enough to have something to trap him with. Trying not to squeak as he ran, Peter ducked down a side passage, if only he could reach the secret passage three tapestries down. Fenwick didn't know about it, did he? Would he think to look there?

Yes, he would. And if Fenwick hadn't known about the passage, he certainly did now. The curses he thought were far closer to Snape's variety than Lily's.

Then he remembered where this passage led to. Could he beat them there? If he could, would he have enough time? Why was he questioning it like he had other options?

Peter threw himself forward with such a burst of speed it caused the caretaker to utter a cry of surprise. But it came from far enough away that he just about had a chance. Sprinting toward the tapestry he thought parodied his own life perfectly, he ran three times in front of a small stretch of wall and all but dove into the mouse hole that appeared, wanting to laugh in relief that it still worked for rats. He scurried down the passage he had requested just in case Prewett and Fenwick got creative to coax him out of the hole. Sometimes in his animal form he could respond to tricks as easily as a real rat, letting his animal gullibleness take over. If the other boys ever had trouble with animal instincts, they had never said anything.

To his dismay, it did not end in Gryffindor Tower, but outside on the grounds. But before he could scurry back, the hole closed him out. When would he learn to be very specific with the Room of Requirement? A way out, was apparently interpreted as out of the castle. As his mind had gone completely blank of curses, Peter cried simply, "Obscenities!"

_Through the castle and grounds ran this great chase,  
While the rat tried to find a safe place . . . _

"Where'd he go?" 

"I don't know!"

"He couldn't have gone far!"

"Yes he could have!" Marissa cried as she skidded to a stop in front of the confused pair. They whirled to face her and followed her arm when she pointed to a small, perfectly shaped semicircle of a mouse hole.

"We've got him now!" Gideon cried in triumph, going down to his knees and preparing to make a grab for the rat.

"No, we don't," Benjy said, sounding dejected. "You don't know what this place is, do you?"

Gideon looked up at him in confusion. "A mouse hole?" he guessed.

"Just as well you don't, suffice it to say that that rat is long gone. Probably down in the kitchens being fed by the house elves." It was a point of contention with the old caretaker that the house elves would feed anything, even the rats with which he and the students' better trained cats waged constant warfare.

Casting a look over the face of Marissa and Lizzie who came up behind her a moment later, Gideon suggested hastily, "What if we split up? Maybe we could find him."

Normally, Benjamin Fenwick would have seen the obvious folly of this plan. However, it was late, a record number of student escapades that he couldn't prove had been plaguing him even for a night before holidays, he was tired from sprinting for almost an hour, his eyes were worn almost out of their sockets from trying to spot that dratted rat in the shadows, and none of it mattered to him in the least if he could just catch that rat. "Good idea. Miss Fletcher and I will search from here down to the Entrance Hall. If he makes as far as the dungeons, he's home free. You two Heads can take the upper floors and the tops of the Towers. Meet us back in the Entrance Hall in an hour if you haven't found him."

"Wait, wait, I meant - " Prewett stammered hastily.

"Two Heads are better than one, wouldn't you say, Prewett?" Benjy replied staunchly. "And I certainly don't trust Miss Fletcher here not to get into trouble if I let her outside of my supervision. Come along, we mustn't let him get away dallying here." Marissa and the caretaker took off down the corridor before Gideon could organize another protest.

He turned around to see Lizzie looking at him almost apologetically before staring down at her toes. "Let's just find the bloody rat and get out of here," Gideon said gruffly.

"If he were bloody, he'd be a lot easier to find," Lizzie said in a weak voice. Gideon shot her a look that was twice as antagonistic as before but jogged off without looking behind to see if she was following.

Once they had rounded the corner, Benjy turned to Marissa, "I suppose that makes up for ruining your master plan?" he said with a smirk. In her surprise, Marissa lost all power of speech. Benjy laughed, "Marissa Fletcher, this castle is my domain. Dumbledore may rule it, but I run it. The walls, the portraits, the tapestries, the passages, the secrets, I know them all like the back of my hand, including the secrets of its occupants. I am discreet however, it's not my place to meddle or give warning."

Marissa let out a small laugh, "I'd say you quite made up for it, Benjy. But what was with the rat?"

"I've been plagued by that same rat for years, Miss Fletcher," Benjy replied with surprising heat. "You think I'm mad? Surely not every rat in the world can stare down a man then calmly walk away as if he has nothing to fear from him? It's contempt I see in that rat's eyes."

"Well, let's get the little bugger then," Marissa said with a smile. The Marauders likewise thought it wise to split up and search for Peter. "If only the Map were finished!" Sirius moaned, fully realizing for the first time just how many uses it could have.

"Well, it isn't, and our friend is out there alone," Remus said reasonably. "We all know the passages better even than Benjy. We should be all right even without the Cloak. I say we start from three ends of the school and work our way to the center."

"We have to go down the North Tower to get to any of the shortcuts that will take us to the East, West, and South ones," James said slowly, thinking it even as he said it. "That should cover the entire castle."

"Of all the bloody luck!" was Sirius's intelligent contribution. "Well the rat's gone with whatever it was that you lost," Lily said when they reached the place shortly afterward. "You saw everyone splitting up. They're mad, of course, they'll never find it again. Can we just go back now?"

"I think a nice moonlight stroll through the corridors is just the thing we need," Dennis replied with a warm smile though annoyance remained in his eyes. "Unless of course you had your heart set on hurrying back?"

Lily laughed as she threaded her fingers between his. Smiling happily for the first time since their date began, the couple set off down toward the Gryffindor Common Room. And if they took a rather roundabout way there, who would blame them? Besides the Marauders, that is. Potter and the caretaker were going in approximately the same direction. At the beginning of the night this would have been a great victory, but now that he had gone from the hope of being rid of all those pesky Gryffindors down to just the most vile, it was rather a disappointment. But this night would not be a complete waste, Snape thought savagely as he followed after Potter.

_But each way he turned another pursued,  
Until he knew he was royally screwed . . . _

After a few shell-shocked seconds and several more cursing this vagueness and the whims of the Room of Requirement, Peter decided he had better find another way back into the castle. He knew several mouse hole passages, the rats had apparently learned a thing or two from their wizard companions at this school. The trouble was that they were far apart and the closest was the most likely to run him into trouble again. Just when Peter was getting seriously annoyed, it started raining. He tried and failed to be grateful that it wasn't snow, but it almost felt cold enough to be. That made up his mind. He made for the closest hole. 

He was almost to the exit when he heard the footsteps. Then two feet stopped within few of the hole and he realized after several highly impatient minutes that they were not going to leave anytime soon.

Wanting to throw something or bite someone (like that dratted caretaker for starters), Peter made his way back out into the downpour. This time he took a passage that the four of them had discovered in third year. It was more likely that they would look for him here, but it was warmer than the downpour and reasonably close to Gryffindor Tower and safety. So of course there were three people having a heated discussion in his way. If he had recognized Sirius's voice, it might not have gone back outside and tried yet another mouse hole.

So glad to not see anyone when he peered out, Peter immediately scampered across the room. He regretted this the moment he felt a pull on his tail and abruptly he lifted off his four feet. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" the unmistakable voice of Snape said with as much pleasure as if he knew that the rat was Peter. "Why I believe you are the very rat that that idiot caretaker has been chasing." Peter never thought he and Snivellus would share the same opinion of the old coot. "Let's just get you to him then, shall we? Then maybe he'll open his eyes and I can lure him to Potter before the night is out."

Peter did just about the only thing that he could think to do in this situation. He squeaked and squealed loud enough to raise the castle. How this would help he couldn't really imagine; it was mostly involuntary. However, Peter proved extremely lucky in that it was not Benjy Fenwick or one of the Heads or Marissa that heard his frantic cries but James Potter who was apteral only a room away. Snape would never have let his prey fall farther behind than that. James came bursting in, of course. He recognized Peter immediately naturally, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head to see Snivellus holding him there. Recovering a moment later, Potter said with his usual air (of arrogance), "I should have known you were the one who trained his pet rat to annoy Benjy."

Snape let out a snarl. "I see rats are no different from their pets."

"I, for your information, am taking this rat to the caretaker," Snape snarled.

James sincerely hoped that he didn't flinch visibly. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that," James said calmly, his wand already in his hand and raised to point at Snape. "He's far too good at creating chaos for me to let you end his reign."

"You'd best worry about your own skin, Potter. The minute Fenwick's psychosis is satisfied by this rat's capture I'm going to set him on you," Snape spit out vengefully.

"You're out past curfew without permission as well," James said very slowly, as if speaking to a dullard.

"But I can avoid being seen," Snape said forgetting for a moment that the potion was lost.

"If that is indeed your plan, however ill-conceived," James said with a cocky grin, "Then I certainly cannot permit you to keep that rat." Before Snape could make another snide comment, James cried, "Fare cadere dal cielo!"

The rat dropped out of Snape's hands at the same moment that every painting fell from the wall, every knight dropped his weapon, and anything else balanced on anything else fell from its place. Needless to say it made a horrid, echoing rachet. By the time Snape had tried to dive for the rat and looked up again, Potter had vanished. He did see, however, that the small red vial of the potion was rolling away on the floor. Had the rat picked it up? And just now dropped it? Was that even possible?

Snape didn't particularly care when he realized that Fenwick was scurrying down. He took the potion and downed it, moving quickly into the shadows just in case.

By the time that Fenwick did get there, the rat was long gone. And so was James Potter.

_And what else should occur on this night not to be missed,  
but a final word between those who had kissed . . . _

Lily regretted her choice of paths through the school the instant that she heard footsteps coming down the corridor they were about to intersect. Finding a moment later that it was just Sirius was only a relief for about five seconds. It was then that she realized that Sirius was never "just" anything. And his reaction was going to be spectacular. Bloody hell 

After the collective stifled scream from all three, they regarded each other, Sirius clearly incensed. "Sirius, what are you doing out?" Lily cried.

"I'd ask the same of you, but I have the distinct feeling that the answer would make me seriously ill," Sirius said between clenched teeth.

"Well why don't you run off so we don't have to feed you little imagination any more?" Dennis said with a false smile plastered over his face. Lily looked at him in slight surprise; her Hufflepuff boyfriend was usually so calm and kind, but then Dennis had had the Marauders attacking him constantly for a month to wear on his willingness to be polite.

"I'm not talking to you," Sirius snarled before turning to Lily. "I can't blame him for taking advantage of his fabulous damn fool luck, but you, Lily, I expected better from you. You think I broke up with you so that you could - "

"Oh yes, Sirius, let's definitely go into why you broke up with me!" Lily shouted, taking a step away from Dennis to face down Sirius. "Tell me all about that."

"You act like such a victim -"

"You're such an incredible prat -"

"Why don't you ever try and see it from my point of view?" they both shouted in unison, staring each other down angrily.

There was silence for a moment, then, "You know, maybe I should leave."

"Dennis!" Lily cried in exasperation, whirling around to face him. "Don't be stupid just because he is."

"No, love," Dennis said, giving her a kiss on her forehead. "I think you two have some things that you need to sort out. Until you do, you'll never be fully happy, sweet. And that's not what I want for you, dear heart. I'll see you in the morning, darling." He turned and walked down the corridor toward the Hufflepuff Dorm.

It was once he had turned the corner that Sirius began, "Could he have thought up any more endearments? Merlin's Staff, you'd think he'd stop at twenty in one sentence."

"Sirius," Lily said warningly.

"Lily, you don't find him sugary and oily and overly slick? Come on. If you have to lay it on that thick it can't be real marmalade," Sirius continued.

"Black!" Lily said angrily, "Shut up about my boyfriend. At least he doesn't have a friend who'll ask him to break up with me." She paused a moment to let her barb penetrate.

"It wasn't like that, Lily," Sirius said seriously.

"I really don't care," she said angrily. "The point is that you and he are going to have to get used to the idea that Dennis is my boyfriend now. You're not going to change that with your childish pranks and petty bickerings."

"Lily, I didn't break up with you so that you could waste your time with guys like that," Sirius said, his voice full of derision for boys the likes of Dennis Wemmick.

"Why did you have to break up with me at all!" Lily exclaimed. "I can't believe I was in love with you!" she said in disgust. Then she noticed the look on Sirius's face and continued nastily, "Yes, that's right. All that time that you and James were playing hot potato with my heart, I was in love with you!" Lily bit her lip to keep back the wild tears, "God knows why," she choked out.

"Lily . . . I had no idea," Sirius said incredulously.

"I know," she said, shaking her head. "But it wouldn't have changed your mind, would it?"

"I didn't want to be what stood in the way of you and James," Sirius answered softly.

"And you thought that who I date should be yours to decide?" Lily said pointedly.

"I know you must have feelings for him, Lily, you hold him to a higher standard than the rest of us," Sirius insisted suddenly. Lily gave him a dismayed look. "Why else would you have forgiven me but not him? Why are you disgusted by his arrogance and amused by mine?"

"Sirius," Lily said in the first calm tone she had used since Dennis left, "You broke up with me, at the heart of it, because you weren't in love with me. Painful, horrible, but ultimately forgivable. And probably the right thing to do considering I was falling for you. But for someone who claims to love me to discount my feelings so entirely for a selfish end . . . then to be so arrogant to think I'll come running to him the minute you end it . . . " Lily trailed off, looking over at him and letting her shoulders sag in defeat. "If he felt for me what you claim he does, which I almost believe, then why does he have no respect for me? And for my right to choose? You Marauders have got to learn that people's feelings are not problems that you have to tackle. What I felt for you, Sirius, was real. And it wasn't an obstacle to be overcome."

"I'm so sorry for the way I hurt you, Lily," Sirius said quietly. "But you have to believe me that it was just me who hurt you." "I'm sorry about all this Gideon," Lizzie said suddenly. Gideon pulled up short in surprise. "You were right about prefect abuse, all of that. And I'm sorry. I just . . . I just didn't want to believe that I . . . that you didn't want," Lizzie trailed off, sounding near tears. "I'm sorry, Gideon." She turned to walk slowly back to Gryffindor Tower, her head hanging.

"Lizzie," Gideon called, stopping her.

"Please just don't yell at me," Lizzie said, not registering the fact that it was the first time that he had called her that since the Kiss. "I'm sorry," she said, looking up, "I can't say anything else."

"Lizzie, don't think that it's because you're not . . . not good enough or something," Gideon said in considerable distress as he looked earnestly into her eyes.

"Then what is it, Gideon? Because you haven't left me any other option," Lizzie said quietly, not daring to be hopeful about anything anymore.

"No, stop it," Gideon said angrily as he stepped over to her and put his arms around her. "Don't you dare hang your head like that. Stop it, Lizzie, I mean it." With that, Lizzie's resolve broke and she began sobbing on the shoulder of the very man who had broken her heart. It was a long time before she realized that Gideon too was crying.

Eventually, he pulled away and took her face in his hands. "This isn't fair. This whole twisted, sick world isn't fair. In any other reality you'd be with me, I wouldn't have to lie to the whole world about loving you. I wouldn't have to hide that you've captured my heart."

"Gideon-"

"No, let me talk," he shook his head as he cut her off, holding her face more firmly to keep it still. "I have to tell you now; you have to understand. I can't keep deceiving you anymore, not if you're going to get it through your head that you're inadequate somehow." Lizzie bit her lip. Gideon placed his thumb on her lip until she released it, a tender look on his face. "I knew I loved you a long time ago, Lizzie. I was afraid of it at first because of the friendship we have. I didn't think I could bear it if we lost that too; I didn't do so well with that when it happened if you remember our recent history. But I would have been overjoyed when Valentine's Day happened if that had been all that kept me from telling you.

"But Christmas changed everything. I knew that I could never be with anyone, least of all someone as precious as you. Not when I saw Anna and little Michael and the heartbreak on Fabian's face. I won't curse you with death or losing someone you've come to care about. I can't bear to let you carry that burden, not because of me," Gideon said looking so wistful and sorrowful that Lizzie felt her heart breaking all over again, for him this time. "I just couldn't not tell you anymore. I thought it would be better this way, but not if you are going to start thinking you're not the most beautiful, wonderful, smart, kind, amazing woman that I know. I love you, Lizzie Walker, and I always will."

"I love you too, Gideon Prewett," Lizzie said just before a sob escaped her throat. After a long moment, she said like a woman grabbing at straws, "We could keep it a secret."

Gideon shook his head, "Do you not know whom we're dealing with here, love? He knows everything."

The endearment falling so naturally from his lips was too much for Lizzie. She threw her arms around him and held him as tightly as she could. Gideon crushed her to him, inhaling deeply of her scent. "Why do you have to protect me? Why can't I risk what you're risking? What can't I take the chance that you're taking?" she asked when she had control of her voice again.

Gideon was firm, "No, Lizzie. I don't take this risk by choice. And let's be honest. It's not a threat I'm under. It's a death sentence. Sooner or later, he'll catch up to me, and I can take that if it's just me, but I could never live with that with what it would mean for you," Gideon said holding her even tighter.

After a long moment, she whispered, "So, what? Tomorrow we go back to being just friends? Never mention this again?"

"That's the way it has to be. Never mentioned," he pulled away to look at her, "But never forgotten either." "Marissa?" Remus's surprised voice called out softly as she made her way back to Gryffindor Tower after a long search with a dispirited Benjy. Remus stepped out from behind a gargoyle a moment later.

"Remus!" Marissa barely kept herself from shouting in her surprise. "What are you doing out tonight without all your little friends?" She looked around as if expecting them to come out of the walls, "Or are they here?"

"No, we got separated," Remus said, deciding to keep the activities of the night to that.

"And you're left without the Cloak to find your way back?" Marissa said with a smile.

"You're underestimating the Marauders. We did just fine the first three years before James's mother died and got suddenly maternal in her will. Sent him a letter with all the things she couldn't say in life and a Cloak that had been in her family for centuries," Remus defended, shaking his head at James's pretended mother.

"He didn't need her, Mrs. Potter is wonderful," Marissa said with another warm smile. "So, if the stealth of the Marauders is so great, why did you alert me to your presence? Afraid I'd be more apt to give you a detention if I noticed your cursory hiding place behind that gargoyle?"

"I just thought that if we walked back together we could always say we were patrolling," Remus replied. "I figured you'd be agreeable, it never occurred to me that you'd give me a detention for being out when you are too."

"Ah yes, but I was hosting a detention that just ended. If we meet Benjy, who's the one on duty tonight, he's going to know that you weren't patrolling."

"Well, we can just hide when we hear him coming," Remus said with a shrug, "Walk with me anyway?"

"I'd like that," Marissa said.

The trip back to Gryffindor Tower was not entirely uneventful, but compared to the rest of the night it barely registered. Until, of course, they reached the Fat Lady. There they saw Peter, in human form.

"Peter, find your way back as well?" Marissa said cheerfully, not noticing the look of palpable relief on Remus's face.

"Riss? Remus?" Peter's voice was inscrutable as he said their names.

"Gave him a safe escort back," Marissa laughed.

"Can we talk a minute, Riss?" Peter said, his voice again full of an indiscernible emotion.

"Sure, Peter," she said amiably, "Would you excuse us, Remus?"

"Cupid," Remus said to the Fat Lady who looked like she had been preparing to scold them all but was now too interested in what Peter and Marissa had to talk about on her doorstep.

They just looked at each other for what felt like a century. Then Peter spoke, "I wanted to apologize, about Christmas."

"Peter, you don't have to - " Marissa began immediately.

"If I'd known how you felt about Remus I wouldn't have tried . . . I wouldn't have thought for just that one moment..," Peter spoke in fits and starts.

"Remus? What are you talking about, Peter?" Marissa said in surprise.

Peter turned to look straight at her for the first time in the encounter. "You've got to be kidding me. The girl who sees Lily Evans's hidden feelings for James Potter, who goes about throwing the Head Boy and Girl together so incessantly I'm shocked that they haven't both filed for a restraining order. And yes, wizards have restraining spells. That same girl doesn't see the symptoms in herself."

"We should go inside, Peter," Marissa said quietly, staring at her shoes as if they were fascinating.

"Right, it's late..," Peter said, cursing himself for planting the seed in her mind to join the one in her heart.

Marissa whirled just as she started through the portrait hole, "We can still be friends, right Peter?"

Peter was a long moment before he could muster a fake smile and a hoarse, "Sure, Riss. Just like we were before."

_The morning after . . . _

The next morning was quite unwelcome for the eleven people who had exhausted themselves with the great chase. Never had they wished more that Hogwarts provided coffee with breakfast. Not that most of them made it there. Just Snape, who had set his internal clock to force him to wake up, Dennis, who spent the entire meal watching for Lily at the Gryffindor Table, and the Head Boy and Girl who spent breakfast at their separate tables not so much as looking in each other's direction but painfully aware of each other's presence all the same. Benjy Fenwick was seated at the Teacher's Table, of course, and glowering uncharacteristically. He hadn't gotten any sleep at all that night, but that was not so unusual an occurence for him. 

The other six Gryffindors slept in until 7:54, were packed and dressed by 7:56, and found themselves sprinting down the road to Hogsmeade station at 7:57 in a blind panic. It looked like it was going to be too little too late when James finally threw up his hands and banished all their luggage to zoom ahead of them to the station and grabbed Lily's hand as Sirius's grabbed Marissa's to drag them more quickly along. Even as it was, they had to run to board the train, Gideon Prewett having already hoisted their luggage into a compartment when he saw it arrive. He was laughing uproariously the entire time he showed them the compartment they had to themselves, sounding as if he had desperately needed a laugh. They were all too grateful to care; Lily even too tired to protest sharing a compartment with James Potter.

In fact, she did not even have the energy to complain when she found herself sandwiched between James and Sirius on one side of the compartment.

Snape, his wand out to jinx anyone who attempted to share his compartment, drove off people until the train started moving when he locked the door and collapsed back to sleep cursing his weakness but unable to resist.

Gideon and Lizzie had no such respite. After hefting the Marauders' and girls' luggage onto the train, he started his patrol duty. Lizzie patrolled the opposite end of the train, acknowledging Gideon politely but formally when they passed by each other.

It was only a few minutes before the six friends found themselves slipping into a peaceful doze as well. Surprisingly, Lily ended up leaning on James's shoulder while he rested his head up against the window and Sirius slept leaning on Lily. Marissa and Remus nodded off leaning against each other, her head on his shoulder and his head against hers. Peter, feeling rather alone, leaned back until his head hit the back of the compartment and fell asleep there. They slept soundly until the train pulled into King's Cross Station and they had to wake up to say goodbye.

©KatyMulvaney8-7-2004


	9. On the Homefront

**Summary:** It's the Easter Holidays and everyone's going home, to varying amounts of excitement from their families. Witness Petunia's grudge and the first appearance of Uncle Vernon, Regulus's recruitment, the impending divorce of the Pettigrews, how Remus gets by on full moons at home, and the return of Mundungus. Not to mention the birth of the infamous Mrs. Norris.  
**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I am no more George Lucas than I am JK Rowling, but I admire his work just as much. As such, I have used lines from his movies and the movies themselves. I do this without permission, but I'm not seeing any money from this so it's okay.  
**Author notes:** Warning, major adult situations in this chapter. Not sex, and there will never ever be a graphic description of sex in my chapters. However, beware attempted rape and Lily and Dennis having to have a "chat" about something the Marauders (for once innocently) found.

On a lighter note, for you return readers: I made an offhand comment in the first chapter about the "Potter Castle." I'm rescinding that now. It should have been the Lupin Castle. I apologize greatly for the grievous mistake. It makes more sense for Lupin to live in a castle anyway. You'll see why.

Oh, and for the purposes of my story, Star Wars: A New Hope came out in March 1976 rather than May of the same year. I also don't know if it was popular in England, but it was shot there, so it's not impossible to believe.

**Chapter Nine  
On the Homefront**

A week ago, there was nothing to distinguish the residence of Mr. and Mrs. David J. Potter from that of its neighbors except the sign in their yard proudly proclaiming their lawn the winner of the Green Acres Finest Grass Award. A week ago, the residence of Mr. and Mrs. David J. Potter was indistinguishable from the other houses along its street. It was whitewashed the exact shade of the house that faced it, had the same green shutters as the house to its right, and had a large black front door identical to the house on its left. Every day at the same hour that all other perfectly respectable and utterly normal businessmen returned home, Mr. David J. Potter drove his respectably normal car into his paved driveway and, waving cheerfully at his wife at the kitchen sink through the lacy curtains of the window, made his way into his house.

A week ago, no one had suspected the deep betrayal that the residence of Mr. and Mrs. David J. Potter had enacted on them all. The model home, apparently identical in creed and purpose to its neighbors, had been revealed for what it truly was. The surprised neighbors had awoken to see the startling proof that the Potter residence had betrayed them all. Some things were obvious at once, while others could be forestalled by the talent for denial that such neighborhoods possessed. Half of the green shutters had been torn from the windows and lay strewn across the lawn, the windows they had protected having shattered their glass all over the garden that was Mrs David J. Potter's pride and joy. The front door was open and swinging on its one remaining hinge at the slightest breeze. At the respectable hour of nine in the morning, the car was not pulling out of its driveway like all the others along the street. At the respectable hour of six in the evening, it still had not moved. Most disturbing of all, the Green Acres Finest Grass Award had been torn from its post and lay muddy and dirty in the middle of the lawn.

On waking that first morning, the particular friend of Mrs. David J. Potter (though no one could fathom why the perfectly ordinary Mrs. Potter would associate with the neighborhood oddball) noticed a faint, glowing green mist that hung over the residence of Mr. and Mrs. David J. Potter, and she knew. She knew why the Potter House's cover had been blown.

Scotland Yard swarmed over the house that first morning; Aurors, that first night. Finding nothing, the police filed away the bizarre incident and moved on. Finding nothing, the Aurors informed the Daily Prophet grudgingly of the tragedy and moved on to the next broken home. Now, for almost a week, the residence of Mr. and Mrs. David J. Potter had stood empty and forsaken, the bodies of the stalwart Mr. Potter and the kind Mrs. Potter in a small cemetery with no epitaph on their tombstone beyond their names and assumed date of death.

It was in the dead of night, when no respectable person on the street was awake to see the sight, their eyes averted from the Potter house on principle, that two people stole quietly up the ruined lawn and through the swinging doorway and into the residence of Mr. and Mrs. David J. Potter. While the street was shocked and repelled by the changes of the Potter House, what the pair found more disconcerting to witness by the light of their flickering candles was the parts of the house that remained deceptively the same as if nothing had happened in the house at all. The flowers were un-watered and wilting; the ashes from the fire in the den were strewn about the overturned furniture; pictures in the front hall had been shaken from their nails and fallen to the ground. All this could be born.

The dishes, half washed in the sink, standing waiting as if for Mrs. Potter to return to finish them, however, pierced the hearts of the intruders. The beds, all neatly made upstairs, made them avert their eyes in anguish. The study with Mr. Potter's papers still strewn across his desk with his briefcase open beside them made their arms sag as they turned the light from their candles away from the sight. The place was kinder by the light of candles to those who had grown used to the sight of the house in the brighter light of the couple's electricity. It did not reveal how much the house had once been. It was properly respectful of what the house had lost.

The pair had walked through the house in silence but stopped in the den. Both were staring down at the cruel chalk outlines that the hapless detectives and policemen had drawn before hauling away the bodies of Mr. and Mrs. David J Potter. The woman broke the silence that had hung about them like a shroud since they entered the house, indeed since they had met to travel to the house. "That just leaves the cats," she said, pulling her eyes at long last from the outline that grotesquely displayed the position Mrs. Potter's body had been found in.

The man swung the small bag of photographs, memorabilia, and other small valuables and heirlooms over his back to forestall saying anything. He could not take his eyes from the chalk drawings. He said nothing; he had said precious little to the woman in many long years, and he wondered if he ever would speak to her again when they now no longer had their sister to coax them into an occasional truce. _No longer had their sister._

"Which one do you want?" the woman grunted, looking anywhere but at her brother or the chalk marks.

"What?" the man voiced purely from surprise.

"Atlanta would skin us alive if we left her cats here," the woman said with an edge to her voice, surprised at how many words they had exchanged. Without Atlanta, she hadn't expected them to exchange that many words in the course of a decade. _Without Atlanta. _

Her brother said nothing. "And I'm not taking them both."

"Fine," he almost snarled, finally tearing his eyes from the outline that had most assuredly been Atlanta Potter's slighter form. "Where's James?" he barked, looking around bitterly for the boy as if expecting him to materialize out of thin air.

"In hiding. You know that," the woman all but snapped. For once neither took offense, their own grief taking over everything. Both expressed grief or distress by letting loose their anger, often with disastrous consequences when they were distraught in each other's presence. This time, however, their grief ran so deep it replaced all other awareness. Atlanta had been the only family that hadn't turned on the pair, including each other. She had been undaunted when the family turned away from her and gone on with her life merrily, marrying a full-blown Muggle. She managed somehow to still be involved in the world into which she was born, however. In all of their lives, the two people standing in the ruined den of the ruined house had openly loved only one person, their sister Atlanta. Now she was gone. Gone.

"James should be here," the man insisted stubbornly.

"Probably doesn't even know yet," the woman added bitterly, too wrapped up in her loss to be shocked that they could talk so freely with each other after losing Atlanta. _Losing Atlanta. _

"James," the man sneered. "This is all James's fault. If she hadn't -"

"Shut up!" the woman screamed over him. The both stared at each other in surprise for a long moment. The woman's voice was shaking with anger and other emotions that were threatening to erupt as she said, "There was no one that Atlanta loved more than James."

"He wasn't even -" her brother tried again.

"In every way that mattered, James was Atlanta's child!" she bellowed over him, almost as if trying to convince herself. A moment later, in a very soft voice, she added, "She probably would have chosen this, if it meant her life or James and Lily's."

"It's their brat Harry that _he_ wants," he snarled bitterly, almost as if he wished he could trade Harry's life for his sister's.

His sister caught this in his voice and rounded on him, "Which is exactly why we can't let him have him."

"Atlanta's sacrifice," he said a moment later, surprising her with his accord, "Must not be wasted."

"Above all else," she added, drawing herself up, "No matter the cost."

"What can two Squibs do against the power of Voldemort?" he asked sullenly. He sounded bitter, bitter that his life would be devoted to the hopeless cause for which his sister had died. But he would do it because she would have wanted Harry protected, and he would do anything for Atlanta who had loved him.

"I don't know," his sister replied gruffly, sounding as if this had given her a purpose she had desperately needed to cling to. "But David and Atlanta kept him at bay for years with just these two cats." Her lips twisted into a wry smile that matched the one on her brother's face.

"In that case, I'll take Mrs. Norris."

"I'm fine with Mrs. Figg."

It was only when they had stolen back out into the night that James Potter commented softly to his wife, "There you are, Lily, we don't have to take the cats." They had witnessed the entire conversation with the distinctly eerie feeling that they were under a massive invisibility cloak, but it was not James's comfortable old cloak but the Fidelius Charm that obscured the vision and hearing of those around them. In fact, James had lent the cloak to Dumbledore to protect Sirius whom even he thought was their Secret Keeper. It was a very complicated reason that they didn't tell Dumbledore this, no small part being his faith in Snape. They knew they could trust Dumbledore, but he had the unfortunate habit of telling the people he thought should know. It was most distressing even if those people would never betray their secret.

Adjusting Harry on her hip, Lily strode over and took her husband's hand. She gave it a squeeze when she saw his eyes fall yet again on the cruel outlines of their bodies. She felt tears stinging in her eyes even as she watched one slide down her macho husband's cheek. "It's best," she whispered in his ear, knowing that he had wanted the cats that his mother had poured so much of her time into training. "With Fluffy just a baby, not to mention Harry here."

Harry began to fuss again when he heard his name, beginning to recognize that word if not realize that it meant himself. The young parents had been hard pressed to keep Harry from crying in the dismal house. "Yes," James said hollowly, taking his son from Lily's hip and holding him close for a long moment.

"Is there anything that they left that you wanted?" Lily asked, an emphasis on the "they" that James didn't like.

"That's how they are, Lily, and they're in mourning," James said his voice thick with emotion. "And no, they got everything important here."

"All right," Lily replied, deciding to let the matter of his aunt and uncle lie. She slid under James's free arm and snaked her own around his waist. James convulsively crushed her to him for support as he cast one last long look around the ruined house that had been his home.

"You and I of all people should know that denying love doesn't mean that it's not there," James said quietly into the dreadful stillness that rested on the room in place of Atlanta Potter's brisk, cheerful constant activity and David Potter's droll humor and slow, deliberate movements. Lily burrowed deeper into James's embrace. "Those two only admitted to loving my mother in all their lives, but deep down they loved every Potter with all of their hearts. Even the two newest Potters," James said with a slight smile down at his son and wife.

"I couldn't doubt them now, when I heard what they'd do to protect us," Lily admitted in a whisper.

"Good," James said gruffly, turning from the room and pulling Lily out along with him.

"Though one does doubt the love of someone who tries to poison you at your wedding," she said almost playfully a moment later, trying to rouse James from the stupor the house had put on him.

"It would just have made you sick," James said, automatically defensive. Lily smiled to herself; he hadn't always been so forgiving of that little abortive prank. "And it doesn't really matter if they love you or not, Lily. I love you enough for all the rest of the world." He looked down into her eyes so intensely that she caught her breath. She reached up to kiss him softly.

Harry let out a cry, disliking being ignored by his parents for any length of time. Chuckling slightly, Lily took Harry from her husband and bounced him up and down until he settled. Then they stole out into the night.

The two couples left the house to the disapproving stares of its neighbors until such a time that a brave realtor decided to take the place in hand. They all slipped out into the night, one pair darting from shadow to shadow to remain unnoticed and the other unnoticed in all the world to everyone save one man in whose loyalty they had entrusted their lives. They both knew that the burdens of inanimate objects that they had come to rescue from grave robbers truly meant little or nothing to the old couple; it was the live burdens that they carried away that had meant the world to Mr. and Mrs. David J. Potter: two cats in whom they had entrusted their safety and one small boy for whose safety they had given their lives.

The train whistle blowing as it pulled into Hogsmeade station startled them all awake, to one degree or another. Remus's and Peter's eyes snapped open immediately, and Sirius groggily stretched. James opened both his eyes then pointedly closed them again in protest. Marissa and Lily both shifted, emitting soft moans of protest almost in unison as they snuggled closer to Remus and James who were acting as their pillows.

The next moment, the compartment door burst open and with an excited cry, Mundungus pounced on Marissa. Startled completely awake by the forceful embrace, Marissa appeared to be shaking herself and trying to get her bearings even as she returned her brother's hug. The excitement also forced Lily to wake, letting out a contented sigh, a slight smile on her face. Then she opened her eyes, looking up expectantly into the face of James Potter. James was looking extremely proud of himself during this performance, right up to the moment she let out a scream and dove back wildly as if he were about to attack her. Her flailing arms hit Sirius in the head even as she scurried back away from James and into his lap. It took her another few seconds to realize that and scurry to her feet.

By this point everyone but James was laughing hysterically. James was just staring at her, which she found even more disconcerting than her friends' amusement. Brushing at the now wrinkled clothing, Lily held her head up high as she tried to muster any remaining dignity. This brave effort was thwarted by Mundungus launching himself at her to give her a hug. Stumbling slightly before regaining her balance, Lily awkwardly put her arms around him briefly.

"Well," Sirius said looking as forlorn as they had ever seen him, "let's go face the vultures." Nervous smiles were exchanged across the compartment at his comment.

After a brief argument among the boys about who would hand down the girls' suitcases (which was settled by the girls yanking them down themselves in frustration), they made their way into the corridor and down the steps off the scarlet train. It was a little known fact that it was only recently that the train ride had become an Express on the holiday runs, not having to accommodate so many students. Dumbledore had proposed it as a safety measure when he became Headmaster, and the parental pressure that had recently elevated had convinced the Board of Governors to ratify it in the wake of the war against Voldemort.

So it was only their parents and guardians who had been allowed onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters that day. That was the only reason that Fabian Prewett had permitted his brother to ride the Hogwarts Express rather than being picked up directly from Hogwarts. There had also been a battle of by no means small proportions about the wisdom of Gideon leaving the castle at all. Gideon had countered with his impending graduation and the stories of penetration of the sanctum of Hogwarts, but both brothers knew that what had swung the deal was the same reason that Gideon wanted to spend his vacation in hiding: his brother shouldn't be alone whenever it was at all possible for Gideon to be with him.

The truth of this statement was strikingly apparent from the first glimpse of the wraith that Fabian Prewett had become. Anna Prewett had formed the habit of laughingly telling anyone who asked what it was like being married to one of the most wanted men alive, "He wouldn't eat a bite if I didn't threaten to turn him in to the Death Eaters." Whether or not this had been true, it looked quite as if Fabian saw little reason to eat or sleep without Anna around to urge him. The frown lines were so pronounced on his face Gideon wondered if he had smiled since December. His skin was pale and his face drawn. His movements, however, were purposeful and confident. He was a man with a mission. Two, in fact: he yearned for revenge and to protect his baby brother with equal vigor. It was all that he had left in the world.

Looking at the waste his brother had become without his loving, charming, cheerful wife, Gideon could almost regret the heroics that had destined them to this fate. He could almost curse that he had ever found that bomb that would have destroyed Hogsmeade, had ever thought the presence of Lucious Malfoy and Peter Parkinson suspicious when they were supposedly there to visit their younger sisters. He could almost curse that he had remembered that Valerie and Alexia had pointedly stayed up at the castle that day. Almost.

Finding the bomb and defusing it, even if he couldn't prove the Malfoys and Parkinsons involvement, had instantly made Gideon pursued by the Auror department for a future job and pursued by Voldemort to meet his Maker. He also believed that this was what had prompted his teachers to give him such overwhelming marks on his final exams last year to install him as Head Boy. Looking at the ruin of the once proud Fabian Prewett, whose eyes had shone so brightly with pride when he first realized what his kid brother had done to save the town, Gideon was immensely glad that no amount of magic could transport this image back to that fateful day in Hogsmeade. He didn't trust what he would have chosen had he known. It had not seemed like a choice to him at all at the time.

Gideon walked over to his brother, fighting to keep his head from hanging, and was hastily ushered into the smaller room on the platform that only members of the Order of the Phoenix could enter or notice. "How are you?" Fabian asked gruffly, looking down at his brother.

"I'm fine, there have been no plots that I've been aware of," Gideon answered clinically because it was the only way he could bear to speak to this totally unexpected version of his brother.

Fabian let out a snort, looking about in a very paranoid manner. "You're in one piece at least," he conceded, looking his brother up and down as if to make certain of this fact. "The Order's meeting tonight. Your report on the happenings at Hogwarts is expected."

"I really don't see why Dumbledore isn't making that one."

"You are a member of the Order of the Phoenix, little brother," Fabian said sternly. "It is an immense honor for someone of your age and an immense responsibility. You were hailed as a hero, is it so hard to do as you are told?" There was a very long silence. "Come on, we've got to get you to the safe house before someone besides your girlfriend notices where disappeared to."

Lizzie tried not to watch as Fabian led Gideon off the platform, but she was too new at this secrecy business. She was completely unaccustomed to having to hide her feelings. She wondered what she thought of losing Gideon this way. He was a dangerous man to care for; in the blink of an eye, she could lose him or be killed to get to him. That wasn't the kind of risk you took for a school boy crush. And yet...Lizzie couldn't shake the impression that had it just had a chance to grow it could have been so much more than that.

She let herself be led away by her smiling and utterly unsuspecting mother, happily unaware of all the turmoil in the world that her daughter had come, in less than seven years, to embrace.

Half the length of the platform away, Remus Lupin was being embraced formally by his parents who were apprising him of his schedule even as they made polite inquiries as to his schoolwork. The one thing they would never ask him was about his lycanthropy. Of that they would never speak, lest they have to face it again. They never could understand that Remus faced it everyday; that he could not escape from it. Waving forlornly to his friends, he turned to follow them. His gaze stopped on Marissa who was helping Gus struggle to get her suitcase down off the train (he had insisted on carrying it for her). She noticed him as well and gave him an encouraging smile, mouthing the words "cradle robbers" at him behind his parents' turned backs.

Remus grinned, then hastily schooled his expression before his parents could see such a "ridiculous, fool look" on his face.

Marissa grinned as well, savoring the smile before turning to face her father. He would surely be there if Gus was. The smile slid slowly off her face as she scanned the crowd for him, dread seeping into her heart for the inevitable meeting. What did you say to a man whose son you had kidnapped because you loved him more but to whom you had relinquished custody when he begged it of you? Not to mention your father.

When she finally spotted his face in the crowd, she saw the all too familiar closed expression on his face and a cold set to his features. Her heart sank. Had she truly been expecting to see the father of her earliest memories rematerialize? She barely remembered that man anymore. This cold one she was all too familiar with.

With Mundungus under her arm and a suitcase in her other hand, Marissa approached the man she barely knew, "Hello, Father."

"Marissa," he said in the same even, empty tone. Or rather, neither voice could be said to be quite empty, but rather any emotions that might show through it tightly controlled. Their eyes met for a second that lasted a year, then both quickly averted their eyes. It was still too fresh to be so quickly resolved. Marissa could not trust him yet, not yet. "Do you have all your things?" he said in a stilted voice. Marissa nodded, the fact that his mere presence on the platform to meet her showed that he had made some progress lost on her still uncharitable mind. "Good, let's go."

It was with a heavy sigh and a hanging head that Marissa made her way through the barrier into the Muggle world, her brother looking up at her anxiously.

James, Peter, and Sirius shook their heads at the forlorn scene, wordlessly exchanging their dismay that their cheerful friend could wear a look of such worry. Remus had already been shepherded away from "the dregs of polite society" that he called friends by his socially conscious (to put it mildly) parents. It had been his parents that had kept them from seeing the truth for almost a year, never dreaming that the such a determinedly model family could have such a skeleton in its closet. "Before the vultures show up," James said, casting a glance over the crowd gathered on the platform, "I've got to ask and I don't trust putting it to paper, where in the world did you pick this up, Peter?" James was holding a small object carefully as if afraid it would bite him.

He had expected them to hoot and hiss upon seeing it, but Peter looked troubled and Sirius oddly thoughtful. "As long as you don't tell me it was Snivellus's I think I can handle it," James said with an attempt at a laugh. He had expected an answering one, but none came.

"James," Sirius began slowly, looking as if he were struggling to find words. "Lily was out last night."

"What in the hell does that have to do with anything?" James exclaimed, "All I'm asking is if you have any theories as to what Peter picked up..." Noticing Lily standing nearby he quickly added, "From that rat last night." Why he felt the need to add this he couldn't quite say, he merely felt that it would be wise.

"Something a rat picked up?" Lily said innocently, not trying to pretend that she hadn't overheard them. She was smiling almost amiably as she looked pointedly only at Peter, the only Marauder in the trio that she was not angry at. "Dennis lost something..." she trailed off, flushing guiltily. "Last night. Did you find it?" Peter and Sirius stared at her, wondering how she could be so blunt however much she despised James. Surely she knew that this would kill him.

James was staring at her as if he had never quite seen her before. Not in the sappy, romantic way that was occasionally true of James Potter as he beheld Lily Evans, but a look of shock, betrayal and almost...disgust. "Well, can I have it back? I was rather excited when he first mentioned it," Lily went on, unaware and undaunted by the incredulous stares she was receiving on three fronts. Were they that sensitive about Dennis even after a month?

"Lily, you...you..," James trailed off, unable to string words together, robbed of words and feeling as if he had been robbed of everything. "You really..."

"Potter, Dennis is my boyfriend, grow up and get used to it," Lily snapped at him. "Now give it back to me, will you?"

James's features contorted grotesquely for a moment, then rearranged into an expression of cold anger. He threw it at her, barely restraining himself from flicking it at her hard enough to hurt her. "There you are, Evans," there was no pride, bluster, or adoration in his voice, it was pure coldness.

Lily did not register that he had reverted to her last name or the iciness of his tone. Her mind was numb as she beheld the condom in her limp hand. Her mouth fell slightly open in shock, but no words or breath came for a very long moment. "Would it kill you to at least be kinder about this bombshell, Evans?" Peter said angrily as he walked away. Lily barely heard him.

"Even if you're mad at him, Evans," when she remembered later, it was the surname on Sirius's lips that hurt almost as much as the name on James's, "I didn't think you would hurt him like this, I thought you'd have a little modesty about something that would hurt him so deeply." His voice held disappointment more bitter than Peter's anger and Potter's coldness.

Lily still could not tear her eyes from the condom, her mind whirling with a thousand denials each as ineffective as the next. It was not until she heard her mother's excited squeal that she recovered enough to push it out of sight and follow her parents in a daze. She had never wished so heartily that she had an owl at home; she needed desperately to talk to Marissa. She was the only one who could make sense of this mess and possibly even make amends with the Marauders.

Or was this the perfect way to finally distance herself from them once and for all? To be rid of the Marauders? Was it what she wanted now that she had the chance?

Only one thing was certain in her muddled mind, it was a good thing that Dennis wouldn't have to face her until she'd had a week to calm down.

"I'm Luke Skywalker, I'm here to rescue you," Gus cried, pulling off a rather absurd looking mask that he had at last proclaimed would have to do. Marissa, still unsure how to play her part, gasped and stood quickly from the chair.

"Aren't you a little short for a strong tropper?" she said, feigning her character's surprise.

"No, no, Riss, it's storm trooper!" Gus yelled in frustration, breaking character in an unheard of fashion.

"I'm sorry, Gus, I am trying," Marissa exclaimed, just as exasperatedly.

"We can't play this if you don't learn everybody's names!" Gus insisted. Marissa stifled a sigh. It would be much easier to remember all of the character's names if she weren't still trying to figure out what in the world was going on in this "galaxy far, far away." On top of everything else, she kept calling lightstabbers wands and the "force" wandless magic.

Marissa thought she would seriously reconsider playing this game at all if it weren't for the fact that her father had been the one to take Gus to see the movie that had so enthralled her younger brother. He had good reason to be obsessed then, since it was the first thing that his father had tried to do with him in his memory. Possibly ever, but Marissa didn't like to remember those first years. Marissa had stumbled upon this knowledge purely by accident when she had gone down to the kitchens the second day of her vacation to ask Mavi to help her understand the complicated plot.

"Oh, that silly film. I'd love to help you, Marissa, dear, but I didn't take him," Mavi said as she kneaded the dough. Marissa's visit had given her an excuse to go all out, something Mavi loved above all things. This included making fresh bread every night. "Your father took him," she added before Marissa could get visions of Gus wandering the streets alone.

Mavi actually stopped and looked up at Marissa for her reaction. Mostly Marissa was just shocked. And pleased. Enormously pleased. Maybe her father would try after all. She had half convinced herself that he wasn't when she realized what late hours he still worked.

Gus had also made several friends in the neighborhood since all the boys who were sick of polo matches and stuffy formal arrangements loved to hear of his much embellished "kidnaping." He went off with them most afternoons, leaving Marissa to entertain only him in the morning and the evening. Mostly she just frustrated him with her inability to comprehend the Star Wars Saga. That was another thing. How could one film be a saga anyway? Or was a saga just one thing? Oh, why was she worrying about this anyway?

Marissa felt like she was in an alien world, perhaps one near that galaxy far, far away. Gus and her father were doing things together (he had even corrected a line from the film she was trying to stutter out), Gus wasn't trying to over monopolize her time, and she felt completely cut off from the wizarding world. She wished that her father's newfound interest extended to the purchase of an owl. The boys at least should have been kind enough to write to her. They had owls in spades after all.

Marissa sighed. She knew that they couldn't, any of them. Except James, they were all in houses where their parents would frown on them using their owls to write a Muggle-born (Sirius), girl not in their plans for their son (Remus), or anyone (Peter).

All in all, her week home hadn't been as horrible as she had half-expected it to be or as wonderful as she half-hoped that it would be. She wondered briefly if this in-between wasn't worse than either situation she had expected. Marissa gave Gus a weak smile and tightened the strange side buns that she had tried to shape out of her hair to Gus's satisfaction.

Peter's week, on the other hand, was going much worse than he had ever anticipated. His mother had picked him up alone at the platform and they had had a surprisingly pleasant ride home. Later Peter thought darkly that she had wanted to get all the news of his life then so she could be free to give his father hell over not being there with her with a clear conscience. And that was precisely what she proceeded to do. Despite the fact that he had no good excuse, Harold Pettigrew fought back just as vehemently. It was this same argument that continued for five full days with them dragging in everything from Emily Pettigrew's mother to Harold Pettigrew leaving the dishes in the sink one night twelve years ago. Somehow it still managed to be about him not being on the platform the entire time, however.

Mr and Mrs Pettigrew were masters at arguing. Almost artists. Matched with anyone else, they would have dominated the household absolutely. Matched together, they never ceased fighting for that supremacy. It was driving Peter mad. Why couldn't they just divorce if they hated each other so much? They would never even have to see each other again since Emily Pettigrew was a Muggle and unlikely to continue in the wizarding world.

However, even that solution was denied them. In a bizarre twist of fate, they actually loved each other. Through it all, they loved and needed each other. They just wanted to be the one who was always right too. It was maddening. Peter was fairly sure that he was going to go mad at least. And he couldn't even flee to Marissa's house anymore.

And his friends hadn't written to him or invited him over. He hadn't really expected Sirius to do that, and let's face facts, when James was eating well off his mother's pie he never thought of anyone else, but Remus would have wanted a lifeline out of the hell his parents were undoubtedly putting him through. Surely he would have welcomed company as much as Peter would have welcomed getting the hell out of that house. Why hadn't he owled Peter?

Peter put his hands over his ears in frustration as his parents began to go at each other over the state of the laundry ten years ago. Then he heard what he dreaded most of all, "PETER!" his mother's voice bellowed out, "COME TELL YOUR FATHER I'M RIGHT!" And there it was, the only proof that they did in fact remember that he was in the house. Peter dropped his head down onto the desk, not caring how hard he hit it.

Sirius, on the other hand, would be overjoyed if his parents chose to simply ignore his presence. The thing that scared him the most was that his mother was being _nice_. Nothing good could come of that.

"Oh my darling eldest son!" Krysta Black called in a truly horrible voice. Sirius had harbored hopes for a very long time that she was not his natural mother. After all, she was so very old, it was entirely possible that she had been past child-bearing age ten years before he was born by the look of her. No such luck however. She was entirely capable of bearing children, as seeing her fat with Regulus had proved.

What disturbed Sirius even more than being called "darling" was the startling reference to himself as the "eldest" son. Krysta Black had born several sons and daughters before Sirius. They had just been fortunate to die before she could get her claws too deeply ingrained in them to stop them from fleeing from her into the netherworld. Apparently she thought of the "weaklings" as quite replaceable. Krysta Black had the unnerving talent to remove completely from her memory, words, and actions all people who displeased her. And she thought of dying as something terribly weak and displeasing.

She hadn't spoken Andromeda's name or made the bleakest reference to her or, indeed, any instance where she had been in the same room, ever since Cornelia Black chucked her out into the street straight from King's Cross Station, still carrying her Hogwarts trunk. The most maniacal part of this was that Andromeda hadn't turned seventeen for three days after that. So there she was: constrained from using magic, had no idea what a pound or a shilling was, and without even enough magical money to call the Knight Bus.

Somehow she had made it to Ted Tonks' house. But she hadn't stayed there. Sirius wouldn't be surprised if Andromeda suddenly reappeared in Krysta Black's vocabulary now that she had gone back over to the dark side. She was still blasted off the tapestry, but it was more difficult to be "re-owned" than disowned.

Owned. That's what Sirius was, and he knew it. "Coming mother," he said through clenched teeth.

"Oh there you are darling!" she cried happily a moment later when he tromped down the stairs to the receiving room. The only conceivable reason that she would call him "darling" was if they had company. Important company. Lethal company. "Come quickly, I want you to meet someone." She rose and came over, gripping his shoulders in what obviously looked like a maternal way but in fact was an excuse to dig her nails into his shoulders while hissing at him, "Stand up straight you lousy ragamuffin. This is your entire future you're meeting. Keep a civil tongue in your head or don't say anything at all."

Aloud, she said in a devastatingly cheerful voice, "Sirius, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Mr. Lucius Malfoy." Sirius stopped dead in his tracks, not caring when his mother pressed her nails so deeply into his flesh that she drew blood. Sirius felt like he had gone blind. Seeing that man, as cool as you please, in his living room had deprived him of the will to move and the ability to see and speak. "What are you doing you little ingrate! MOVE!" his mother hissed in an unhearing ear. She shoved him roughly forward and he took an unsure step. In this way she moved him across the room and threw him down in a chair.

Laughing gaily as if it were nothing abnormal for her son to instantly lose all motor skills upon meeting a stranger, she offered them man a teacake. But Lucius was no stranger. Sirius knew his sneering face all too well. "He must be so overwhelmed to meet such a famous personage!"

Lucius laughed once, a black kind of laugh that silenced even the consummate pretender Krysta Black. "I am more of an infamous personage, Mrs. Black," he said with a sneer on his face that said that he knew perfectly well the true reason for Sirius's catatonic state. If Sirius had been in any state to pay attention, he would have realized how much his mother must need this man for her to not immediately jump to her feet and claw his eyes out for calling her "Mrs. Black" instead of "Lady Black." But Sirius was too absorbed in the memory of the last time he had seen that particular sneer on Lucius Malfoy's face.

_Remus had heard it first. His ears had pricked up suddenly, his face turning a highly unnatural color. "Do you hear that?" he asked in a hoarse voice that made them stop instantly. _

_After a long moment, James asked, "Hear what?" _

_But Remus didn't stop to answer, he pelted down the passage, a look of terror in his eyes. Bewildered, the other Marauders had followed him. As they ran, it became loud enough for them to hear it too. Five almost completely unused passages down, James had frozen midstride, clutching his heart with a stricken look on his face. "Dear Merlin, it can't be!" _

_"This way!" Remus shouted back gruffly. Two corridors later, Sirius heard it too. Screaming, pleading, a girl's voice, a terribly familiar girl's voice crying for help. Then a sinister snarl, "No one can hear you, you foolish girl." Lucius Malfoy's voice._

Sirius's face assumed a glare, and he very nearly let out a dog-like growl. If his mother thought he was going to sit here and quietly exchange pleasantries with that...that...monster who had...

He leapt to his feet, his eyes fiery but his jaw locked so tightly with anger that speech was impossible. "Sirius! Sit down!"

_"Please, please leave me alone!" _

_"Stop your pathetic whining you filthy little half-blood!"_

"Lucius has come a great many miles to speak with you about a wonderful opportunity, Sirius," his mother said in a dangerous voice that Sirius didn't even hear. Lucius was looking highly amused. Just as he had when they finally rounded the final corner.

_Marissa was screaming as he tore at the buttons of her blouse. She fought him with one hand, the other arm hanging limply from her shoulder, broken in the struggle for another garment. Her sweater, robes, and skirt were a twisted mess in a pile that lay halfway down the hall from where they were. Malfoy was half-undressed himself. A feeble shirt that Malfoy was beginning to rip in his impatience was all that was protecting her from him._

It was all that Sirius could do to keep from leaping at the man as he had then. He gave absolutely no thought to the fact that he was unarmed. Lucius, apparently, did not. He was twirling his wand in a casual manner that was nevertheless a pointed warning to Sirius. For a flash of a second, Sirius didn't give a damn.

But before he could fly at the man who had taken the light, however briefly, completely from Marissa's eyes, he spoke, "Go ahead, Sirius, attack me."

Mrs. Black sputtered a moment, then stared at Lucius Malfoy with something almost akin to fear. "How else, Krysta, shall I determine the worth of your _eldest_ son?" The emphasis on "eldest" was just slight enough to be effective.

"He's on holiday from school, the ministry will be here in the beat of an owl's wing if he does magic," she protested in a hard, cold voice.

"No magic is allowed outside of school."

_"No magic is allowed in the corridors, boys," was all that Lucius Malfoy said when he had been overpowered by four younger boys. Even with the four of them working together, it was a close thing for the third years to drive the seventh year away from their friend. Giving Marissa, who had sunk down into a ball when he had been pulled off her, a particularly contemptuous look, he had assigned all the boys detentions and swept coolly from the corridor. _

_James and Sirius had sprung after him, Peter standing about indecisively. However, before they could round the corner he had disappeared down a secret passage they hadn't yet discovered. That had begun their driving desire to know them all. _

_Remus was on his knees beside Marissa, afraid to touch her after what she had been through. All their hearts broke at the sight of her curled in on herself, trying to hide from the world, sobbing harder than they had ever seen anyone sob. "Get her robe, Peter, we'd better get her to Madam Pomfrey," Remus said. Marissa's eyes looked up, red and wild and seeking comfort. Sirius was relieved that the force of such a gaze was fixed on Remus instead of him. _

_The next moment, Marissa had launched herself into Remus's arms and was clutching at him as if he were her lifesaver in a stormy sea. _

Sirius launched himself at the man. Immediately, he was thrown back up against the wall. "Mr. Malfoy!" Sirius's mother cried in protest. "He is unarmed!"

"And unwise," he said in a biting, cold voice. "He knew the score would have to be settled someday."

"That charge!" she cried with a sudden realization. "Oh, Mr. Malfoy, he was so young! Of course he couldn't understand!"

"He was not properly instructed," Lucius sent her a look of contempt. "That I concede. But the insult must be settled nevertheless."

Sirius, just getting his bearings back, tried to dive at Lucius again, but halfway there was hit with the most blinding pain he had ever experienced. It seemed to go on for years. When it stopped, his eyes were red with burst blood vessels from the force of the unearthly cry that was ripped from his throat. So Sirius never saw how shaken his mother was from hearing such a cry torn from her son's throat.

"He is unarmed and helpless and on his back!" she cried in protest, on her feet now.

"And just as he will appear before the Dark Lord!" Lucius roared back. "And if you want him presented at all, _Lady_ Black, you will not interfere! No one else is coming to see you, no matter how much your husband may purchase himself out of the coming war. No one else will come for the boy, Gryffindor friend of a Potter and Pettigrew that he is! If you want him in the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named you will not interfere!"

So Sirius never saw his mother's pain, only heard her soft acquiesce. Then the pain returned and he was writhing, his body contorting in the throes of anguish while Lucius Malfoy looked coolly on. It went on and on until Sirius knew that it would never end. He would be stuck forever in his sea of misery and pain until he drowned in it. Then he realized that he had a way out, he could forget this pain, if only...

"Kreacher! Take the curse!"

Just before Sirius could give in, just before his mind could snap, the pain abruptly lifted and a high-pitched, terrible cry filled his ears. Kreacher the house elf lay in a crumbled heap for several agonizing seconds before Lucius lifted the curse. Not sparing him a glance, he turned to his mother as if nothing more remarkable than a spelling bee had occurred. "Gryffindor that he is, he would be useful to the Dark Lord. I will come to collect him in three days time. Be ready."

"I...will...never...join him," Sirius croaked softly.

"What was that?" Lucius said, looking down at the crumbled heap that was Sirius for the first time in a voice that betrayed any emotion.

"I will...never join him!" he replied in a slightly stronger voice.

"_Imperio,"_ Lucius said casually.

The bliss that took over his mind was wonderful after the agony of the Cruciatus curse. Only one thing save him, it was Lucius Malfoy's voice that was whispering in his head. "I...will...NEVER JOIN HIM!" Sirius cried after a moment's battle. He would not obey the man who had done that to Marissa just because he said a spell. He would never join Voldemort.

Lucius turned to Krysta Black with an icy fire in his eyes. "Good day, Mrs Black."

"But I will!" Regulus cried, bounding down the stairs just as Lucius raised his wand to Apparate.

"What did you say?" Lucius asked, turning to the boy who stood so proudly before him.

"I will join the great Dark Lord!" Regulus shouted proudly.

_"Crucio."_ For an agonizing minute, Regulus screamed and fell to the ground where he writhed in pain. Then Lucius Malfoy lifted his wand slightly and the pain ceased. Regulus's tensed muscles relaxed.

"Do you still want to serve the Dark Lord?" he said coldly.

"Yes, your honor."

"Yes, your honor, what?"

"I will serve the Dark Lord with my life and death," he said.

"I will come to collect him in three days time. Be ready." Then Lucius Malfoy was gone, leaving Krysta Black standing in her living room with two of her sons collapsed on the ground in an exhaustion that went far deeper than they had ever known, their sides chosen forever.

One of the Black boys would live to regret his decision. He would live to writhe in the consequences as painfully as he had in the throes of the Cruciatis curse. He would endure someday what Gideon Prewett endured at the very moment Regulus Black made his fateful choice.

Gideon knew that he would never change that day, but he had had no idea what it would demand of him. Lizzie. Fabian. Anna. Michael. Freedom. For Gideon was not free. He was currently in the bowels of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He would not learn the location or official name of this place until his graduation. He was a full member in name only, it seemed. He was treated with honor but trusted with no secrets. Hailed as a hero but given no assignments except to watch.

Watching was hard for him to do. Hard enough watching the people who would have joined in the killing of his nephew and sister-in-law had they been only a few years older, but the other kind of watching was still worse. He had to watch people walk away from him. No one he cared about would die because of him. He couldn't bear it. For he was being watched too, so he had to watch them all walk away. Again and again. Lizzie was only the deepest cut, not the first nor the last.

_The merry babble of the students released from the castle could make him forget the conversations he had heard about the danger this Hogsmeade excursion may entail. It could make him forget even his brother's words of warning. It was Christmas; it was the best time of the year; the snow falling everywhere made the town look like it was made of frosted gingerbread. What could possibly go wrong? _

_Then Gideon saw them. They had no place here. Lucius Malfoy and Peter Parkinson, walking briskly away from the town just as the students were reaching it. They could have been going up to the castle to see their sisters, realizing they weren't in the crowd that day. Weren't in the crowd... _

_Valerie Malfoy and Alexia Parkinson had been conspicuous in their absence that morning. Lucius Malfoy and Peter Parkinson were now conspicuous in their presence. Gideon might have ignored this, put it off as some of his older brother's paranoia wearing off on him, if he hadn't seen the look in Lucius Malfoy's eyes as they passed quickly through the students. There was nothing conspicuous in his walk, in what he was saying to Parkinson, but his eyes were greedy and shining with an unholy light. _

_"Get back! Back to the castle!" Gideon had screamed at the top of his voice from the middle of the crowd. "Back! BACK YOU FOOLS! Get back to the castle!" _

_A prefect had gripped his arm, "What, are you trying to start a panic?" _

_"Run for your lives!" he bellowed desperately. _

_"Shut up, Prewett!" _

_Gideon wrenched his arm out of Amos Diggory's grasp and set off at a run for the town. If they wouldn't turn back, he'd have to find it before it went off. He probably had time, they would have set whatever it was to go off when the students were at the height of their tour of the town. Just enough time for everyone to get careless. Not that it would matter if it was the kind of device Gideon thought it might be. _

_Diggory was running right behind him, clearly thinking Gideon out of his mind. What chaos reigned on the hill just beyond the town Gideon never knew. _

_Where? Where would they hide it? On main street? That would cover the most bases, but how would they install it without anyone noticing? A store? Zonkos? Honeydukes? With all the storekeepers preparing frantically but excitedly for the student invasion? _

_Hog's Head would be the easiest place to hide it, but the Three Broomsticks would suit their purposes better. And if there was just the right amount of confusion in the pub... _

_Dodging Amos, Gideon pelted toward the pub, sliding on a patch of ice on the doorstep and right through to about the middle of the floor. Running the rest of the way to the counter, he demanded of the astonished Madam Rosmerta, "Did Malfoy and Parkinson come in here!" _

_So surprised by his bizarre entrance, she answered immediately, "Here a few minutes ago, left just after that nasty spill Tom took." _

_Neither was yet infamous. Both were thought quite respectable, at least as respectable as young men could expect to be. No one in the pub understood his frantic next question. _

_"Where did they sit?" _

_"What is this, Prewett? Have you gone mad?" Amos bellowed from the doorway, having finally caught Gideon. _

_"Where did they sit?" _

_"Contain yourself or I will have to ask you to leave," Madam Rosmerta said coldly, not sounding in the least as if she would be sorry to do this. _

_"Where did they sit?" _

_"What's gotten into you, Prewett?" _

_"Where did they sit?" _

_"You're disturbing my customers!" _

_"Where did they sit?" _

_"Over there, that booth by the window for Merlin's sake!" she cried, evidently deciding she would get further by pacifying him. _

_Gideon immediately whirled and practically dove at the table. Every eye in the pub was fixed on him as he ran his hand under the table, through the napkins and bar nuts, along all the seats, until he finally found what he was looking for on the underside of the chair leg. It was only weeks later that Gideon realized that he could have set it off by brushing against it if it had been another kind of bomb. _

_He pulled the small device off and held it up, peering at it closely. The worst was that he had no idea how long he had to defuse it. He thought of just bashing it with something sufficiently heavy, but knew that it would be made better than that. Malfoy was nothing if not thorough. "Merlin's Staff!" Amos cried when he realized what Gideon was holding. Stronger oaths were exchanged by most of the patrons, and Madam Rosmerta's face went so white she blended with the snow Gideon had tracked across her immaculately clean floor. _

_"I'm going to vanish it," he announced to the anxious bar. "Unless anyone here knows how to deactivate it." Even as he spoke, Gideon knew that the only people who would know how to deactivate such a creation of dark magic would not be the kind who would do it. He took out his wand and, hoping that he would not exacerbate the problem, made the dangerous contraption disappear in the blink of an eye. _

_Then the Aurors descended. _

"Remembering that day again, little brother?" Fabian Prewett said quietly as he entered the room. Gideon looked up at him, slightly surprised. Fabian smiled weakly, "I think of it often as well, little brother. It was the day that changed your life."

"And yours," Gideon said faintly.

"In all your life, no matter what marvels you may accomplish, I will never be prouder of you than I was that day," Fabian told him stirringly.

"And now?" Gideon asked.

Fabian smiled weakly again. "I will always be proud of you, little brother."

"Fabian," Gideon stared at him earnestly, "If it had been only my own life...I would have gladly traded it for Anna and Michael's."

The meager smile fell off of Fabian's face. "And I would give my life to have their own spared as well, but that choice was not given to us."

"It was my choice," Gideon said softly, looking down at his feet. "It was the choice I made that day, though I didn't know it."

Fabian actually looked angry for a moment, and in the prison of self-blame Gideon believed it directed at himself. "Don't - you - ever - say - that -again," Fabian said in a deathly quite voice.

"If I hadn't had to be such a hero that day you wouldn't have had to be protecting me this Christmas," Gideon said, unable to let go of the blame now that he had at last had the courage to claim it. It had been torturous for him to do so, but he had done it and Fabian would have to let him carry the burden openly now.

"If you..," Fabian was inarticulate with rage, walking right up to his brother and glaring down at him. "You are not the only one in this world who has offended You-Know-Who Gideon Prewett!" Towering over him, Fabian yelled down in his face, "I am an Auror and an Order member fighting him everyday! So was Anna! And a Muggle-born! Do you think you are the only one to ever thwart his plans? You've always had a touch of dangerous arrogance, Gideon, but this is too much! You cannot take this burden solely on yourself. Many, many things could have changed that - that terrible day. Not just that one, and that is the one that I would not change. How dare you take this on yourself?"

Gideon just stared at him. "Fabian..."

"And don't think that I don't know how you push people away at school, think that mere association with you will spell their doom! Well you are not the only mark that You-Know-Who has in mind and you are not the only one allowed to make that decision!"

Gideon was speechless for a moment, then he asked softly, "So you don't think that I should keep Li...people from being around me?"

Fabian lost the angry look in his eyes and plopped down heavily on the chair next to Gideon. "Maybe it's just because I'm an inordinately selfish person, little brother, but I wouldn't trade my time with Anna for anything, even the knowledge that she was safe somewhere married to someone else. You see how I am now without her, half-alive if that. That's how we both would have been without each other, Gideon. Whether it is better than death I do not know. I have never died, but I think it often. I loved every moment that I had with Anna and Michael, little brother, and I wouldn't trade my life with them for anything, even to prevent their deaths.

"It was a choice we both had to make in the world we live in now."

Remus had been glib about his transformation to his parents and himself. He had laughed that it was a welcome respite from the cotillions and parties his parents had thrown at him with a vengeance. He had laughed that it was a relief to get out of the house that was so starched everything stood out at right angles, from the people to the clothes to the furniture.

Empty laughs, all of them. Not that his parents new the difference anymore. As much as he may hate the house that demanded perfection from one whose life would always be surrounded by scandal, the small shed that his parents practically threw him in three nights a month was far worse. It was their shame. They could not accept that he had shamed them, they put all the shame on the shed, on the locks, on the moon. They ignored that it was him so that they could rail against the shame of the necessity of the shed and the locks and rail against the moon. Hate openly the "howls of the shed" as if their son who was sitting right there had had nothing to do with it.

The shed gave them something to hate and fear and call their shame. It gave voice to what even they knew they should not say directly to their son. Mr. Lupin was the head of an ancient family and a big-shot at the ministry, and even with this base he was a social climber. Mrs. Lupin was a mountaineer. Their son was to be received by the highest society, his way paved for him in all things, his life to be seen under a microscope and never faulted, but their son was a werewolf.

Now there was only one objective: to hide it for as long as possible. It was quite possible, even, that it would never be discovered. He was a Lupin, and respect followed that name. He was the son of Evelyn McKinnon, and no one suspected a McKinnon. He would never have to tell an employer if he was placed high enough in the Ministry out of Hogwarts; he would never be suspected at social functions if it could only be assumed that he was having an affair. His wife may not even have to be told if the proper woman, who would accept an "other woman," could be found. There was a chance.

And it all hinged around what was in that horrid shed.

Their son. Though they would never admit it, even to themselves.

Remus was the only one who could blow their cover. Lawrence Lupin was so determined not to bring any suspicion on himself that he turned down an assignment to work on a potion to cure lycanthropy by saying "All werewolves should be exterminated, that would cure the world of lycanthropy." The worst was that he repeated this story at home to Evelyn, citing it as a reason to worry they were suspected. Evelyn Lupin supported her husband's words at every social engagement where the event was discussed. Neither of them thought of the young Remus's reaction to their machinations. He must understand the need to save face, he was the son of a socialite and a politician.

But Remus did not understand, and as such, he was the threat to the Lupins grand plan. The shed would reveal them to all eyes. The howls would betray them. Remus knew what they meant. He would betray them; he would reveal them; he would toss them from society and dash all their dreams. Remus the Werewolf would never be anything else in his parents' eyes.

Remus never missed his friends more on the nights of the full moon than the torturous nights he spent in the shed on his parents' property.

James was having a splendid holiday except for the fact that Lily Evans, the girl he firmly believed was or would be the love of his life, was clearly sleeping with a twat like Dennis Wemmick. James knew Lily's record. She had given her virginity to that...that...that thing.

Lily. Evans. Had. Slept. With. Dennis. Wemmick.

That was the only thing that he could think, and it tortured him. Bad enough to think of her holding hands with him in the corridors. That image was burned into his brain inescapably. Bad enough to think of her kissing him. That would haunt him to his dying day. But to have to face the fact that she...that she would...

James really hadn't thought that Lily would sleep with him. He had thought he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't give herself to that prat.

How could she flaunt it so? How could she stand there and look him in the eye without so much as blushing? Be indignant that he was affected? How could she be so cruel?

James loved her and hated her all that week, and the two emotions dueled. In the end, it was difficult to say which won.

Strangely enough, it was his surly Uncle Argus who most disapproved of this new attitude in him. James had expected the visit of Uncle Argus and Aunt Arabella to go more smoothly than in the past because his new mood so neatly matched their permanent one. While his adopted mother Atlanta Filch Potter had accepted her life as a Squib without question, her brother and sister had never stopped resenting it and the rest of their family for turning away from them. Then again, Atlanta had embraced a non-magical life and married a Muggle David Potter while Argus and Arabella still clung to the dregs of the wizarding world.

Another of the myriad of things that Uncle Argus and Aunt Arabella resented was James himself. When Dumbledore had found the baby of Aurelia Meliflua and Rhys Watterby on the doorstep of Hogwarts, he had appealed to Atlanta and David Potter to adopt the boy, knowing that they could not have children themselves. They had exchanged a quick glance and immediately agreed. Legally in both the magical and the Muggle world, the abandoned boy had become James Morgan Potter. He had been told before entering Hogwarts, knowing that the truth would come out there anyway.

It was not hard to see why Uncle Argus and Aunt Arabella resented their sister's new son. He was a full-fledge wizard, and a damn good one too, around to remind them of their inadequacy at what they had come to think of as their only haven. For neither Argus nor Arabella Filch ever dared love anyone after the betrayal of their families. They didn't have the necessary trust. Save one person, their sister Atlanta who had never turned on them. They couldn't even stand each other, but they loved Atlanta.

Everyone loved Atlanta Potter, David and James most of all. David had the same detached curiosity about the wizarding world that Atlanta practiced. James didn't want any other parents, certainly not the ones that had abandoned him. With the Potters, he wasn't an illegitimate, unwanted baby, he was a beloved and much desired son. They had offered James the chance to take the name Meliflua or even Watterby, good old pureblooded names. He had never shied away from the Muggle name of Potter.

Uncle Argus and Aunt Arabella now wished that he had. They would have been indignant five years ago if he had taken either name over the one that suited Atlanta so, but now they scorned that he would put his parents (meaning his mother) in danger by taking her name along with whatever fool stunts he would accomplish. For they knew that James was making waves at Hogwarts and that soon he would be making waves in the wizarding world. Soon he would bring his name the attention of He Who Must Not Be Named, and that could mean death for the kind, decent pair who had so lovingly taken him in. Selfish, ungrateful boy.

It was Wednesday that Arabella finally decided that it was time to have a chat about the boy with her sister. "Atlanta," she said, sitting down at the kitchen table as she watched her sister prepare dinner that night from scratch, a concept of cooking that eluded Arabella, "You know how I love James."

"Yes, of course, Bella," Atlanta replied casually. If she did, she was the only one who knew this and undoubtedly the only one capable of believing it.

"And we're both so proud of him," she said again, careful to set the stage just right. "But, well, he's a great wizard, Atlanta."

"I know," Atlanta said in a glowing voice. "Have you seen his marks at school? Without even trying if I know that little imp," she said fondly, her voice bubbly with pride. "Imagine what he'll do when he's finally mature enough to set his mind to something. Besides causing trouble that is," she laughed.

"Precisely, Atlanta," her sister pounced, leaning forward slightly in her eagerness to explain her position. "James will be a great wizard, powerful and clever and you've done marvelously teaching him Latin and logic and such things, but you've done an even better job of ingraining morals into his stubborn head."

"Not such a good job of it, with all that he gets up to at that school," Atlanta said with a positively ferocious false glower for the benefit of James who had just come down the kitchen stairs on his way to the den. He reached for one of the muffins she had made, but Atlanta slapped his hand and shooed him out, "You'll spoil your dinner, James Potter. Now get! Get!"

Only when he was safely out of earshot did Arabella speak again, "I'm not talking about being the prim and proper little gentleman. He can see through you in the blink of an eye as easily as I can: you're delighted to have a rogue on your hands. What I mean is that you've instilled a basic decency and goodness in him."

"Why I'd be shamefully remiss in my parental duties if I did not!" Atlanta cried in surprise.

"I know you think so, Atlanta, that's why I felt I needed to talk to you," Arabella plowed on. "You've given him honor and a sense of justice, and a nature that...for all it's disregard of stuffy rules, has a firm grasp of right and wrong."

"While I'm flattered that you think so highly of my rearing of the boy, Bella," she began.

"Don't you see, Atlanta? A powerful, resourceful wizard with those qualities is as good as dead in the world we live in now!" Arabella burst out emotionally.

Atlanta stopped cooking, stopped smiling, and stopped breathing. A very long moment later, she resumed the first and last but not the second. She said nothing to her sister. "He's dangerous to himself and...to you, Atlanta."

"It's a mother's job to protect her son, Arabella," she said tightly. "I won't shy from doing anything that I can."

"But how much longer do you think what you can do will be enough?" Arabella challenged. "How much longer do you think that you can hide James behind a Muggle name and a watch cat?"

"I don't know!" Atlanta cried loudly a moment later, her grief plain. There was a long silence that extended to the other rooms in the house as well. "But I'm not a witch, Arabella, I have nothing else to offer him."

It was the first time that Arabella Filch had ever heard her sister speak regretfully of her Squib status. As if on cue, the ever watchful Mrs. Figg the tabby cat slunk into the kitchen and jumped onto Atlanta's shoulder. Mrs. Potter had trained this cat so well it almost suggested that she was not, in fact, completely bereft of magical ability. Mrs. Figg had shadowed James almost since her infancy, trained to watch where he went and warn Atlanta if he looked to be in impending danger.

Even now, knowing that James was completely safe a room away, both women shuddered at the implied warning of her presence.

"Is it time to have your litter, precious?" Atlanta asked the cat with a smile of approval for her warning.

"You do know that Mrs. Figg can't answer you, right, Atlanta?" Arabella said in a tone of deep skepticism.

"Don't listen to the mean old lady, she doesn't like any cats," Atlanta cooed undaunted. Arabella rolled her eyes expressively. Atlanta just laughed and whispered something to the cat. To her horror, the cat immediately walked (heavily) to Arabella and rubbed against her side. Arabella leapt to her feet in alarm and glared at her sister.

Atlanta picked up the cat and carried her to the place she had prepared for just this event. "Do you want any of the litter, Bella?" Atlanta asked innocently.

Arabella didn't dignify that with a response. Atlanta continued gaily anyway, "I've convinced David that we need to keep one more. Mrs. Figg is getting old, I'm going to train the runt of her litter to take her place. As you've just suggested, I can't be off my guard."

"Why the runt?" Arabella prompted her sister obligingly for her favorite adage.

"Runts never run out on you," she said as if it were a new saying for her. In reality, she had been saying it since she was old enough to understand what it meant that she was the last of the three triplets out of the womb. "They barely made it on their first race."

"Know what you're going to call this one?" Arabella asked, again without real interest.

"Mrs. Norris if it's a clever female, Mr. Tibbles if it's a trainable male."

"The runts are always female in this house," Arabella replied.

Lily hated Petunia's new boyfriend. Almost as much as she hated her own at the moment. A condom! A rubber! After what, a month? He expected her to... And she was going to introduce him to her family!

Petunia was too young for a boyfriend, and this one... The great oaf was three years older than her and far too full of himself. He was even worse than Potter! Potter... Lily didn't like to think of Potter these days. Prat or not, he was still a person who appeared to be attached to her. And it killed her for anyone, even James Potter, to think that she was some sort of scarlet woman.

And that was precisely the opinion that Vernon Dursley had come to form of her. A fifteen year old dating a twelve year old had no right to condescend to prostitutes let alone his girlfriend's sister in Lily's opinion. What was Petunia thinking? What were her parents thinking letting this smug, gargantuan man-child who called them Bean and Morgan instead of Mr. and Mrs. Evans date Petunia? He didn't even call Lily's grandmother Mrs. Vine! He had no respect, and obviously thought that his shit didn't stink.

What did Petunia even see in him? Did he have some hidden appeal? Hidden _way_ down deep somewhere? Was Vernon Dursley even deep enough for that?

Lily had spent almost full week fuming about Vernon Dursley so much that she still didn't quite have an idea just what exactly she was going to say to Dennis when he arrived. Sirius's words rang in her head "sugary and oily and overly slick" "If you have to spread it on that thick it can't be real marmalade." How had she not seen it before? He was too perfect.

No pureblooded wizard actually had good taste in Muggle literature. It just wasn't possible. Not to mention music. He was too smooth, too suave. In many ways, he was as full of himself as James Potter himself! Potter! Poor Potter!

She smiled tightly through the meeting of her parents, then pulled him away amidst tolerant smiles and one self-important suggestive glance (Vernon), took him on a tour of the house. No one thought that either of them was interested in the house. Lily just had a very different interest than they all thought.

She dragged him directly to her room (not considering what a boy who already expected sex from her would think of this) and slammed the door. "Nice bedroom," he said with a smile that suddenly Lily did not like in the least.

Lily wordlessly went to her desk, picked up the Item, and threw it at Wemmick. She crossed her arms and stared at him, daring him, defying him to wriggle his way out of this. To be smooth and slick and oily and try to explain this away. It would be a very entertaining show. Lily hated cats with a passion, but at this moment she resembled nothing more than one who had decided to play with a helpless ball of yarn until she had reduced it to a tangled mess.

Dennis caught it and looked down, his expression not changing except for a growing grin on his face. "Well, I've learned you're not shy, Lils, but I didn't expect you to be quite this forward." He sent her quite a look. "I'm totally in accord."

"Do not call me Lils. Only one person is permitted to call me Lils," Lily said stiffly. Dennis looked up in slight surprise at her tone. "And have you looked closely at that?"

Dennis gave her a highly amused look, "I recognize one, Lil_y_."

"Did you recognize _that_ one by any chance?" she said icily.

Finally beginning to understand that his girlfriend's tone was not a flirty or suggestive one, Dennis took a second look at what she had thrown at him in what he was beginning to understand was not a suggestive maneuver. For a moment he stared dumbly, then all of a sudden, his eyes widened in sudden understanding. He looked up at her in slight alarm, obviously trying to revamp the entire conversation, "Lily, I...where did you get this?"

"Potter found it," she said, staring at him furiously.

Wemmick seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as if he were off the hook, "Oh, Potter, what are we both going on about then?" he asked smoothly. Lily stared at him in disbelief. He really thought that he could weasel his way out of this one now? "It's Potter, Lil_y_, he'd do anything to sabotage this relationship. Why did you even bring this up?" He had the gall to sound offended that she didn't trust him over Potter.

"Because he didn't know it was yours when he told me about it," she answered coldly, not breaking her furious gaze. "Said he got it off a rat he saw dropped it."

"We met Sirius that night," he said persuasively.

Lily might have faltered, if it had been a lesser matter. She might have yielded if it hadn't been for the look he had given her when he thought that she was willing earlier in the conversation. "Who didn't learn about a rat from me!"

"I saw him in the halls on my way back, he was very upset Lily, I think I said something that might have given him the hint he needed," Wemmick said with a perfectly straight face.

That settled it, Dennis Wemmick was a rat. "That's quite a trick, considering he walked back to Gryffindor Tower with me."

Even Wemmick could see that he was trapped. "What do you expect, Lily, when you act the way you do? I should have known that you were just a tease," Dennis said almost vindictively, "You led me on, don't be mad because I followed along." Apparently, he thought he had nothing to lose.

"Get out," she said through clenched teeth.

Dennis just gave her an openly lewd look, "You probably wouldn't have made a good lay anyway." The contempt in his voice was too much after a week of Vernon Dursley.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU PATHETIC LITTLE SQUIB!" Lily yelled loud enough to shake the foundations of the house. She chased him out too, "You and your overactive little wand get out of here before I transfigure you into a penis! It'd probably be a wasted effort, that's all you've got on your mind you pathetic, fake, snake-charmer!

"I don't know what made you think I'd be one of your little wind-up witch toys, but I'm not that kind of girl!" she yelled, shoving him out the front door. Dennis Wemmick stumbling down the front path fearfully, tripping over the gate, Lily slammed the door and turned to face her startled family. And Vernon. They were all staring. Vernon, however, was looking far too calculating for her tastes.

"Just what kind of girl are you?" he asked, sounding like he was on the verge of understanding.

It was only then that Lily realized how many of the words she had yelled at Wemmick violated the Statute of Secrecy. And Vernon Dursley looked far too close to figuring it out.

Just when Lily was thinking that this holiday couldn't possibly get worse, Petunia started screaming.

"That's IT!" Peter yelled, flying down the stairs at his wits end, "You haven't stopped screaming at each other since I got home! Do you realize that? You couldn't even play family for a week? Scratch that, I'd take an hour!" Peter stood before his startled parents, standing up to them for the first time in anyone's memory. "Why don't you two just get divorced like any normal people who are this miserable around each other?" he hollered at them, spinning on his heel and marching out of the room again.

There was blessed, glowing silence for a full minute.

Then they began arguing about whose fault it was Peter was angry with them.

Neither parent had spoken to Sirius since the meeting with Lucius Malfoy. Krysta and Christophus Black had made much over Regulus who had been carried to his bed and fussed over constantly. Sirius had been left on the floor. It was Kreacher who rescued him when his parents were safely upstairs cooing over Regulus, their new little Death Eater. It was Kreacher who helped the fifteen year old who could barely stand after the successive hits with the curse to his own small room to recover.

Kreacher the house elf would do anything for any member of the Black family. He was not only a devoted but an adoring house elf who took to Sirius most of all. He brought Sirius food against Krysta Black's orders when he was sentenced to darkness and a stint of starvation even though it meant ironing his hands afterward. That kind of pain didn't dull their bond.

For Kreacher, for all his groveling, thought of Sirius as his brother. Merlin knew he didn't have any family of besides the Blacks. Sirius saw him that way too, a substitute for Regulus who was such a massive disappointment. Kreacher was agreeable company even if he was excessively agreeing. He took care of Sirius after the curse even though he had to put his ears in the oven afterward. He took Sirius into his own room even though it meant he had to sleep in the cold, dank basement.

These small hurts did not dull the friendship of Sirius and Kreacher, but the pain of the Cruciatus curse eventually would. For Kreacher wanted the approval of Krysta Black more than anything. He had Sirius's, what he wanted was the impossible: a small nod from his mistress. He would always remember that she had loved the ungrateful, spiteful, worthless son she loathed more than the one who adored her. He would forever be nothing to his mistress because he was worth less than even her hated Â"eldestÂ" son.

The pain of the curse had ended when Lucius Malfoy raised his wand, but it would never cease to work its evil on the mind of the house elf. That was the nature of Unforgivable Curses. Left alone with Krysta Black, Kreacher's decay would be rapid, and the day would come when Lucius Malfoy would be very glad indeed that he had planted that fateful seed of resentment in the house elf.

Remus sat in the stuffy jacket in a ritzy box where his parents had invited a great host of "important people" to watch Quodpot. Remus was trying not to glower at the lot of them. They were so false, so altered in a crowd. They subscribed to the hiding in plain sight school of keeping a secret. Remus subscribed to the hiding in a hole somewhere and never coming out school.

He wondered if his parents would be happier if he went somewhere and did just that. After a very long debate, Remus decided that they wouldn't, as it would be awkward to explain it to meddlesome high society.

Evelyn McKinnon Lupin was laughing gaily. Lawrence Lupin was railing against vampires in a self-righteous and impotent fashion. Ministry colleagues and contacts drooled all over them. Their children knew. Certainly not _the_ secret, but they knew that there was something wrong with "that Lupin boy." Remus Lupin didn't fit into his parents starched and ironed world.

He wanted back to his scruffy, trouble making friends. The kind his parents ignorantly thought were "no good" but were the only good thing he had in his life. What other group had he ever been a part of but the Gryffindor six? What group would ever mean so much again? What he had now didn't feel like a real family. And what girl could he ever ask to give him one of their own?

The gray fluff ball that was Mrs. Norris very nearly wasn't born. Her first few hours were very touch and go as well. Atlanta insisted (after the scare was over) that it proved that she was the strongest one of all.

James, who knew that he would have to get used to the idea of midwifing if he wanted to enter into the magical creatures sector, made the mistake of allowing his mind enough freedom to spontaneously generate the question: _Merlin's staff, what if Wemmick wasn't careful and he got Lily pregnant?_ After this, not even his mother's passed on love of training and caring for animals could keep him paying attention to anything else. Would Lily have to _marry_ that twat? Or would she wise up and dump him? Or he run out on her (that pillock just would too!) and leave her to turn to James? But even if she did let it bring them together, every time he looked at the kid he would see Lily and Dennis going off to some quiet little corner of the castle and -

GAD! He had tried all week not to get that mental picture in his head! He hadn't slept, not trusting his subconscious not to come up with an image; he hadn't aloud himself to think, not trusting his thoughts not to wonder dangerously; he hadn't spoken, not trusting his words not to stray into a dangerous area to suggest one to him.

Now there it was, what he had struggled so hard against. And all thanks to that bloody cat! Unfortunately, that was quite a literal description now. There had to be someway that he wouldn't have to do the midwifing. The private sector (the Ministry was far too conservative for his tastes) had to have some solution.

He'd think about that later, right now the only thing he could concentrate on was getting the Disturbing Image out of his head immediately. He left the room.

All four adults ignored his departure, but looked up in shock a moment later when they heard him screaming incoherently as he banged his head mercilessly against the wall in desperation. Atlanta nodded at David to go restrain their son before he hurt himself. Arabella nodded at Argus: it was clearer than ever that the boy was dangerously crazy.

Petunia yelled the whole truth out to Vernon, eliminating any chance that he could be made to forget Lily's odd vocabulary. Mr. and Mrs. Evans later confided in Lily (in a state of high frustration) that they had almost had Vernon Dursley out the door. Then Petunia saw with approval how badly Dursley had treated her sister and now that he knew, how in the world would they get rid of the onerous prick?

Apologizing, Lily explained the situation that had led to the "seemingly nice boy" that they had just met being thrown bodily from their house as their daughter screamed at him. They all knew their daughter's temper, but they were as outraged as she when they understood the full tale. They even absolved her of her unintentional reinforcement of Petunia and Vernon's (they said) wavering bond.

Would they never be rid of him now? What would he say about Lily if Petunia ever showed him the door as she had shown Dennis? Why must relationships always be so disastrous?

There was an uneasy truce between Marissa and her father. It was better than the open warfare of February and better even than the blatant unconcern of the past years. Seeing how he had taken an active part in Gus's life at long last, Marissa had half expected to see a glimpse of the father she had had once and now barely remembered. He was a completely different man. Jerome Fletcher did not even physically resembled the man he had been then.

Marissa had come home expecting nothing and still managed to be disappointed. It was a relief to see Gus actually able to talk to him, wonderful to not have him beg her to kidnap him again, heartwarming to hear the word "dad" on her brother's lips however tentatively he used it. But nothing that happened that week made Marissa willing to use that word again herself.

Not even a conversation they had the night before she would return to Hogwarts. Gus was upstairs, ready to have a sleep over in her room for their last night together, but she paused in the living room. She walked half the distance to her father who was sitting in a large armchair reading his work papers. A small lamp lit the space where two identical chairs sat. Her father always sat on the one to the right of the lamp. If Marissa tried to remember very hard, she could vaguely recall a woman that she knew from pictures was her mother sitting in the chair.

"I - Are you dropping me off at King's Cross tomorrow?" she asked hesitantly.

Without looking up, Jerome Fletcher shuffled his papers and said, "I have to work. Mavi's taking you and Mundungus."

"I - I just wanted to tell you now then," she stuttered, still terrified of this man for some unfathomable reason. "That I really appreciate all that it is you've - you've been doing with Gus. Thank you for -"

"Not blowing his chance you condescended to give me?" he said lightly, still not looking up. "You have a lot of gall, Marissa, and a lot of presumption." Deciding to call the encounter a wash, Marissa strode wordlessly from the room. Her father looked up after she had gone and said to the empty room, "Just like your mother."

Their "rest" from school had made all of the Gryffindors quite glad to be returning to the safety of Hogwarts where at least all the problems they encountered could be written off as petty, adolescent conflicts. At least in other people's minds. There, at least, they had their friends to help them fight their battles. Almost like family, just without the drama. Marissa, so outraged by Lily's brief account of her and Wemmick's break-up, nearly attacked Dennis when he crossed the barrier. Lily had said gruffly but not disapprovingly afterward that she had only wanted her to give the bracelet back for her.

After that, Lily had been allowed to join Peter and Sirius who were standing on the platform waiting for James and Sirius. Marissa stood with Gus, laughing and trying to understand yet again the difference between the "Force" and magic. A few Ravenclaw purebloods found this exchange so hilariously ridiculous that when Sirius arrived, he sent them off with a boil-hex when he saw the annoyed looks Marissa was shooting them. Granting him an identical one for his efforts, she turned back to the patiently explaining (yet again) Mundungus.

James, a little behind him, veered for the train when he saw Lily in his fellow Marauder's company and made his way directly to the train, feeling betrayed.

They had just begun Worst Easter Holidays Contest when Lizzie Walker burst through the barrier into Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Sirius's attempted Death Eater recruitment and torture session as well as family estrangement was awarded first prize over Lily's break-up and Vernon encounter, Peter's lack of sleep from the fighting, and even Remus's lonely transformation and equally frightful social engagements (the former described in code because Lily was there). No sooner had they thumped him on the back in congratulations and sympathy then Gideon was led by his brother out onto the platform from the Order secret entrance. Lizzie ran right up to him, and stopped just short of throwing her arms around him.

She looked as if she had hardly slept and the worry lingered behind her eyes even as she saw that he was quite all right. "I don't think I've slept four hours all holiday, Gideon," she confirmed his immediate reaction to her blood-shot eyes and haggard appearance. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and here it is: I love you, and not just in the way that every Hogwarts couple feels like they have to say. I mean: I love you, forever, have children, get married, face down V-Voldemort himself if I have to kind of love. And I don't care what risks there are, I can't live half alive, always wondering what would have happened. I love you, Gideon Prewett, and that's worth any risk to me. You may not want to risk me, but damn it, I don't care! You're worth it to me, and I'm not going to let you ignore me. Nobleness is a great thing, Gideon, but it should only go so far!"

Gideon regarded her for a second when she had stopped her speech. "Schoolboy crush, yes, that can be smashed by Voldemort's threat, but I truly love you, and you're not shutting me out of your life for anything!" She looked as if she might go on, but Gideon stopped her by pulling her to him and kissing her soundly. Right there for the whole world to see.

"Well, I guess not everyone had a crappy holiday after all," Lily remarked with a slight smile on her face.

Read? Review!

**Author notes:** I realize I went a very different direction with James's family. But I believe there is canon evidence for both the fact that James could be illegitimate and for the Filch siblings (though perhaps not Atlanta). "Potter" isn't a surname on the Black Family Tree and isn't it one that Harry would have noticed immediately, family hungry as he is? And if ALL the pureblooded families are interrelated so that even the Weasleys figure into the Black ancestry, why not the Potters? And when Sirius is explaining the relationship between the Weasleys, Malfoys, and Lestranges and himself, why doesn't he go into how he's related to Harry?

Actually it's probably just because Rowling didn't want to reveal it just yet, but until that's confirmed I'm going to extrapolate freely on her hints.

His birthparents are both purebloods I believe, but he's born illegitimate and adopted, loves his adopted (Muggle) father so takes his name. I made his birthfather related to Alice Watterby Longbottom to give Harry a known blood relative. Meliflua was taken from Sirius's glimpse at his family tree. Not so impossible?

As for a Squib mother, wouldn't she be the ideal person to take in a reject from the pureblood family? Being one herself? Rejected for something she can't control, her lack of magic, she understands James's plight, blamed for the lack of wedding rings on his parents' fingers.

As for Arabella and Argus being brother and sister much less Atlanta's fellow triplets, it's not so unlikely when you consider how rare Squibs are reported to be. That and the cat fixation that both Arabella and Argus exhibit, Argus taking the petrification of Mrs. Norris like the death of a child, or a beloved sister and her only legacy left to him, and the peculiar naming. Arabella's "Mr. Tibbles" and Argus's "Mrs. Norris." Surely everyone does not name their cats this way? As if they were gentlemen and ladies that you didn't know well enough to call by their first names?

They are about the same age by appearances, both watch over Harry at home and school, both have the same impatient and gruff attitude toward him when they catch him out. Their phrases and speech patterns are even similar. I've just given them a sister to connect them with Harry and account for the proprietary nature of their sacrifices to watch over him. Both take care of Harry but don't do it in a nice way, rough around the edges.

So not so unreasonable, eh? If you think it is, drop me a review (email permanently defunked or I'd suggest that) and let me know why.

Oh, and if you noticed that Lucius called Marissa a "filthy little half-blood" instead of a "filthy little Mudblood," why did you think he wasn't too disgusted by her blood to touch her? He knew about her mother, found it amusing that she didn't. Of course, Marissa was too traumatized by the event to wonder about that.


	10. Revenge, Dueling, Quidditch Fouls, etc

**Chapter 10**

**Revenge, Dueling, Quidditch Fouls, and Other Distractions from Studying**

Mundungus swore that Mariella Goring was behind this somehow. How else could Joy have possibly chosen this particular old movie to want to see? He was certain that the Healer girl had been very subtle in her methods: "You know he loved the first two Star Wars movies, but he's never seen the third. Don't you think that would be lovely? Have you seen them?"

So here he was, about to watch the original Star Wars trilogy with the woman he had fallen head over heels in love with, the only person that could possibly have convinced him to do this. As Mariella Goring knew all too well. Just how she had managed to "casually bump into" Joy he didn't know, but he was certain that she was behind it. Ever since they had called off their feud at Hogwarts she had thought she had the right to involve herself in his affairs. She was wrong. No one had that right. Except Joy now.

That is, if Joy wanted the job. It was only a fringe benefit that it would require Mariella Goring, the brilliant but bothersome potionmaster, to step down from the capacity of chief woman in his life. Even if she was his only friend in the world, wife trumped that. If Joy would agree.

Mariella Goring had to spoil even this date. He couldn't bear for the ring to stay in his pocket another week, but this torture session! To have to relive the good times, and to be forced to remember the bad ones. Those fleeting days were long past, and they had taken everything when they went. Marissa had taken everything with her when she left, everything but Joy. Joy Alvarez was the only thing that he had found since his sister's death that brought him happiness that was not bittersweet at best.

Lily and James taking him into their home until their death had been kind and wonderful, especially compared to the orphanage, but the deep, abiding grief the three of them shared for Marissa and reminded eachother of constantly was all too poignant when he was in that house. Mariella Goring was a true friend, but she wanted too much to heal him. She wouldn't have been much of a Healer if she didn't, but she couldn't ever just let him be. She had to change him, make him face the ghosts that haunted him, try to turn him from his path of revenge. He had decided long ago that he would make them all pay someday in the only way that could hurt them: through their pocket books. Mariella could not accept that.

But Joy Alvarez could almost make him forget it. She was exotic, from Brazil, and was so far removed from every demon that tormented him that he could forget them in her presence. Her accent only made her voice more beautiful to Mundungus Fletcher, and her darker complexion lovelier. She, alone among all in the British Isles, he could trust to not bear any fault.

Now he had to watch _that_ movie with her. If he refused, he would have to explain, and he dreaded explaining. She would understand, she would pity him, but he would not be able to pretend with her anymore. And the ring would stay in his pocket indefinitely.

It was worse than he had ever imagined. She had definitely talked to Mariella Goring, who probably hadn't meant to be cruel he grudgingly admitted, for Joy had done her hair in the side-buns of Princess Leia. It took Mundungus back to Marissa, frustratedly trying to force her curly blonde hair into the difficult arrangement while laughingly trying to understand its importance. In truth, he had been far too old at the time to be "role playing," but his sister had been so carefree and almost childlike herself that it had seemed natural. She had certainly had the unbridled enthusiasm of a child.

Joy's were not the lopsided, messy affair that Marissa had finally managed. They were probably magically formed they were so perfect and identical to Carrie Fischer's hairdo. Joy looked exquisite, and she was smiling proudly as she displayed them to him. Mundungus smiled at her, able even to remember the good times with Marissa without the bad when he was in Joy's presence. As long as he didn't have to talk about them.

Mundungus came in the house clutching three rented movies from a Muggle store near his house. "A New Hope" he had seen when his life was full of joy and at a time in his life when there was always someone who could blow up the Death Star for him. That was Marissa's movie. Joy loved it, sitting on the edge of her seat the entire time.

Lily and James had insisted on taking him to "The Empire Strikes Back" when it came out a few years later. That was darker, and it had a sorrowful ending. People who were beloved lost each other. Lives changed for the worse. At least, that's what he had thought. Joy had seemed surprised when he said this, "It's not so much a sad ending but an incomplete one. It's more, 'this isn't over' than 'there's no more hope.'" Of course, she was right.

As he found out as he watched "Return of the Jedi" for the first time. The obstacles that had seemed so insurmountable in the previous movie were beaten and all was well, better even, than it had been before. It was a movie of not just hope but victory. Of remembering your losses but dwelling on what was saved by your efforts and what the deaths of loved ones had purchased for the world.

Mundungus looked over at Joy Alvarez who was still watching the ending credits with a smile on her face and took the ring out of his pocket.

* * *

"She didn't sleep with him, you know," Marissa said by way of greeting, plopping down beside James in the Common Room. "She broke up with him because of that condom you found."

"Good for her," James said in the same brusque voice with which he had addressed everyone since returning to the castle. He didn't look up from his Transfiguration book, glaring at the print as resentfully as he had at the rest of the castle.

"She's been trying to apologize to you," Marissa said, staring at the boy who refused to look at her.

"I don't want to hear it," James replied shortly.

"Why the hell not?" Marissa demanded angrily, slapping her hand on the table in frustration. "What's wrong with you? You've been waiting a year for Lily to be willing to have a conversation with you, and now she wants to and you just can't let it go."

James did not even look up at her uncharacteristic use of profanity. "Do you know what I saw every time I closed my eyes on break? What I still can't get out of my head?"

"Something that never happened," Marissa cried in frustration. "It's not even the past you can't let go of, it's a figment of your imagination!"

"That will haunt me the rest of my life!" James shouted back, drawing every eye in the room.

Marissa just stared at him for a very long moment. When she spoke, it was in a very soft voice that revealed more disgust than he had ever heard in it before, "If you can't get over this, James Potter, then you will ruin any chance for you and Lily to ever be so much as friends again. If you cling to this, then you are everything that she's ever said about you. You're a prick, you're selfish, you're big-headed, and such an egomaniac you punish people for crimes that were only commited in your imagination. If you can't let go of this, you don't deserve her apology."

With that she turned and walked away up the staircase. A minute later, she came flying back down it again, this time she was almost yelling, "And have you even noticed, James Potter, in your utter self-absorbtion, that your friends need you right now? The way you were? Has it even penetrated that fantastically large head of yours that you are not the most wounded of the Marauders? For Merlin's sake, open your bloody eyes James Potter. Your friends need you."

She whirled back around again, and this time she did not come back down.

* * *

Unsurprisingly to those who knew it was coming eventually, Severus Snape was the one who finally said in the Marauders' hearing the news that had been circulating the school. Somewhat surprisingly, it was Marissa that he chose to attack with the rumor that the rest of the school had been painstakingly careful to shield from the Gryffindor six. Even those who were good-natured, even those who liked them, even those who didn't believe the rumor knew that the Marauders had a tendency to shoot the messenger. 

And no one wanted to be the herald of these tidings. Save one, who was rather enjoying it.

"So I hear the scarlet woman has finally dropped the act," Snape said in what was almost a hiss over the potions cauldron that he and Marissa were preparing. "Not that she was fooling anybody."

"Severus," Marissa said only a little tightly, "I have the feeling that I do not want to know what you are hinting at, and you probably don't want another reaction like the last time you upset me, so why don't we just concentrate on the Eutharos potion today?"

It was incredibly diplomatic and the closest that Marissa Fletcher had ever come to telling someone to stow it. Anyone else might have stopped, but Severus Snape could not be deterred. Especially when the Mudblood had the audacity to call him by his first name, as if she were his friend. Well he didn't have any friends, and he didn't want any, certainly not of her sort. "As much as I would loathe for Black to get another detention," he replied in reference to the last altercation, "I find that I cannot suppress this particular tidbit of information."

"Unless it's a less disgusting way to gut these spidercrabs, I'm not disposed to concentrate on it just now," Marissa tried yet again to shut him up. Of course it was unsuccessful. Only death or a coma could silence a Snape when he bore tidings that would hurt James Potter.

"I have a feeling what I have to say will distract you completely," Snape said with the air of a cat playing with his food. "And what kind of friend are you that you don't want to know the gossip about your supposed best friend?"

"The kind who's naive enough to think that gossip is never anything more than that," Marissa replied, sufficiently distracted though she pretended to still be working on the spidercrabs, "And thus perfectly uninteresting."

"Oh, but I think you'll find this particular piece of gossip downright fascinating," Snape said, seeing that he had her attention and relishing drawing out the moment painfully. "Truthfully, I'm rather shocked that Saints Gideon and Lizzie Prewett didn't feel the need to tell you that the truth leaked out about her."

"All right, I'll bite: what supposed truth?" Marissa asked. Severus Snape was all too happy to tell her.

It was a particularly finicky potion that they were working on, and the O.W.L. spirit had descended on even the least industrious of the class. As a result, everyone was concentrating very hard and working very diligently when all of a sudden they heard Marissa Fletcher of all people shout out, "_Son of a bitch!_"

Of course, all work stopped at once. Even Professor Delacour was too shocked at the outburst to respond immediately. "Bastard!" Marissa cried again, looking enraged in a way that was frightening on her cheerful face. No one could remember seeing Marissa Fletcher angry, and she was rarely even upset. She had never gotten into an argument with a Slytherin, which was more than anyone else in her house could say, and she had, in fact, never fought with anyone other than her father and Dumbledore. And that incident was hardly widely known.

Sirius and James were instantly at her side, waiting for their cue to start pummeling Snape for whatever he had done to provoke Marissa; and it had to have been bad to a get a reaction like that from Marissa for Merlin's sake. That was when Professor Delacour snapped into action, moving quickly to intercept her students. "Reeturn to 'our stations, Meester Black, Meester Potter," she said, staring the two taller boys down. When they had grudgingly started off, she turned to Marissa and Snape looking very angry indeed. "As for 'ou two, I weel see 'ou outside in a few meenutes. Wait fo' me there."

After satsifying herself that James and Sirius would stay put, Professor Delacour stepped out of the classroom. Five minutes later, the three of them walked back in, and all of them were silent. Marissa still looked furious, Snape still looked amused, but Professor Delacour no longer appeared frustrated and furious with Marissa for the interruption or Snape for the provocation. She looked almost sick, disgusted. Of course, everyone was curious.

Marissa, however, refused to repeat it when Lily almost pounced on her after class. All that she would reveal was that she had detention. However, behind Lily's back she shot meaningful glances at whichever of the Marauders whose eye she could catch. She barely managed to restrain them from attacking Snape.

In the end, all that she managed was that they waited until she and Lily ducked off to the loo on the way to Ancient Runes. Sirius and Peter were the only ones who weren't bothering with the subject, but they followed along the way, ready to bust Snape's head open at the earliest opportunity. As Slytherins (Snape among them) had this class with the Gryffindors on Thursday afternoons, several presented themselves.

It was James who confronted him, "Hey, Snivellus," he said in a ringing voice that filled the hall, his wand already out. Snape whirled, his wand also drawn. But he was not just ready, he was firing.

James had had too many similiar encounters with Snape to be surprised. He was ready, instantly springing into action. The crowd sprang apart then encircled the two duelers in some instinct that all humans possessed for spectating. As most of the combatants' energy was put into dodging and deflecting their opponent's curses, this was not an entirely wise decision on the part of the crowd as stray hexes abounded and it was a miracle that no one was hurt.

Half a miracle at least. James was gallant enough to carefully deflect away from the crowd and to dodge only if he knew that no one was behind him. Snape, who had no friends even among his own housemates, didn't care who suffered from Potter's stray hexes as long as it was not himself.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Marissa shrieked, breaking into a sprint as she realized that James and Snape were fighting. She broke right through the crowd, heedless of the flying curses. Remus made a grab to catch her arm, but she did an odd twisting movement and broke free of even his unnaturally strong grip. She slid to a stop in between the duelers, her arms spread out, her eyes flashing at both of them.

James, ever the gentleman, immediately stopped, and, to everyone's great surprise, Snape also pulled his wand up short. She looked angry again, "I will not be an excuse for the two of you to further this ridiculous feud!" she cried. Then she turned to James, "And it's not what you think in class, you don't owe him revenge, you owe him a debt. Now clear off! Both of you! Before I give you both detention!"

"Twenty points from both Slytherin and Gryffindor," Professor Garamonde said coldly, arriving on the scene. "And you were overly lenient, Miss Fletcher. Though you did do considerably more than Mr Lupin, Mr Karkaroff or Miss Penola. Five points to Gryffindor."

He gave the other prefects a more scathingly look than he had given James and Snape, "Five points apeice for not coming for a teacher or doing anything to maintain peace in the corridors. If you are not going to perform your duties as prefects, then why do you wear the badges? I will be discussing this matter with your respective heads of house. Now everyone, get inside."

Professor Garamonde was particularly harsh in his criticism if anyone missed a question on his hour long O.W.L. Review, but beyond that Ancient Runes elapsed in a highly uneventful fashion compared with Potions and the pre-class duel.

But things were most certainly not back to normal.

* * *

Knowing Marissa, Remus half expected her to want to go on with the dancing lesson they had that evening as if that afternoon had never happened. The other half was right. She was sitting in the classroom looking more fiercely determined than he had ever seen her. "Go get James, Sirius, and Peter, but don't let Lily know," was all that she said. 

Remus set off immediately. Less than five minutes later, all four of the Marauders burst into the room, panting from running. Curiousity and loyalty were both very strong in the Gryffindor boys. They all looked up at her grave, set face expectantly. "You'll all want to sit down," she said calmly.

"Why?" Sirius demanded.

"So it will be more dramatic when you leap to your feet in outrage," Marissa said shortly, gesturing to the desks that she had not bothered to move to the side of the room as she usually did. They sat. And it was very dramatic when they lept to their feet in outrage. In addition, Sirius let off a stream of expletives that James echoed resoundingly. Peter began to hiss something so furiously under his breath that it sounded less like speech and more like a kettle boiling over. Remus let out a rather animal-like snarl.

"So I take it you boys are agreed?" she said, looking just as livid despite her calm demeanor.

"To what?" James said hotly, not meaning to round on her.

Marissa understood. "He's coming here in a few minutes." The boys set to howling again so that Marissa had to wait a few minutes for them to be relatively calm again, "Gideon owes me, obviously. Lizzie and all. Gave him a detention, giving me a perfect reason to meet up with him. I called you boys here for two reasons, I need your help with the enchantments necessary and it will be far more effective with more numbers, especially you boys. He knows how protective you are."

"So what do you say? Will you come to Lily's aid in her hour of need?" Marissa asked them all, but looked in James's direction. There appeared to be a war going on behind his eyes. No, not a war. Torture.

"What's your plan?" he said simply. Marissa almost smiled. Not a malicious smile, though she did smile that way a few moments later, but a relieved smile that James wasn't holding this pathetic grudge forever.

It took most of the time before they heard the knock on the door signalling Wemmick's arrival to explain her plan to the boys. "Okay, break!" she cried when she heard it. All the boys but Remus, who was far too used to such odd phrases popping up every once and awhile, gave her a strange look for her choice of words, then hurried to their station. Then Marissa opened the door and admitted Wemmick.

He started and let out an oath. "I should have known when Prewett went out of his way to give me a detention that you were behind it, Fletcher," he snarled. "Your prefect abuse is getting positively rampant."

"You knew this was coming?" Marissa replied in a slightly tight voice.

"You're obvious," Wemmick retorted.

"But it did not save you," Marissa replied immediately shoving a sponge into his hand and abruptly vanishing from view as he felt a tug at his navel and the world began to whirl around him. He vaguelly heard a whispered, "_Portus,_" before it all began.

Then his feet hit the ground and sent him tumbling over. Wemmick glanced up and looked around him. Instead of the worn, ancient stones of Hogwarts, there was soft earth under his feet, just beginning to recover from winter's hardness. Though the cheery candles of the castle had largely offset the darkness of the night at Hogwarts, here the night was fully advanced and the blackness engulfed him completely. Then there was a flash of green light, and five vague figures stood before him. Before he could so much as blink, three of them had pinned his arms behind his back and rendered his legs useless and flailing under him.

They dragged him to a stone tablet that was lain down on the ground. A tombstone stood at the front of it. He was in a graveyard. The three figures, who were each stronger than him, tied him to the slab before it with enchanted ropes that only tightened when he struggled. He soon ceased struggling at all.

Until he realized just who these five were. The Marauders and their bitch. He let out a stream of expletives and vague threats for what he would do to them "when he got free."

"Oh I don't think we need worry over much about that," Marissa practically purred. "Oh no, don't gag him, Brother Percival," she said in a more normal voice when she saw Peter moving toward him. "There's no one to hear his screams out here."

Wemmick, who had indeed had his mouth half open in a cry for help, almost let out a scream of frustration but restrained himself lest he appear even weaker than his situation already caused. "Now, we have some issues to settle here. Are you prepared, Brother Harold?" Marissa said calmly but sinisterly. Before tonight, niether Wemmick nor the Marauders would have thought that Marissa could sound sinister, but there was no denying that she sounded frightening indeed.

"We don't need to go into the song and dance of a confession, Sister Jane. He's already given one to half the school," Sirius sounded nothing less than livid in contrast to the cold Marissa. At the moment, it was almost the crazy bitch that worried Wemmick more. He was beginning to lose all his grasp on rational thought in this situation, barely hanging onto thought at all.

"True, and it has been established beyond a doubt that the confession came unprompted from the guilty himself," Peter added helpfully.

"Let us then proceed to the penalty," James said in the most terrifying voice that Wemmick had heard all night for it was full of nothing but pure cold, hard anger. Then, in the flickering green fire light, a knife flashed in Potter's hand.

Wemmick gave a great jerk and let out a yell. "What - you - you - I'll - I'll have you! I'll - " he cried to threaten, but eventually degenerated into "HELP! HELP! Their mad! HELP!"

"I told you that was no use, Wemmick," Marissa whispered in his ear. In a slightly louder voice she added, "What I haven't told you is that the penalty for sleeping with then leaving one of our own is castration." Another series of wild shouting followed this statement. Remus shoved him so roughly back down on the stones lab that he hit his head and was forced to lay still. He didn't notice (nor did anyone else) that Marissa's eyebrows knitted together for a moment as she regarded this unexpected display of strength. "As you have previously confessed, repeatedly, to having sex with Sister Violet, one Lily Evans, and professed to terminating your relationship with her directly afterward, you shall receive the penalty forwith."

"You psycho bitch!" Wemmick cried in panic. "You can't do this to me! You can't take - you bastard, get away from me - I'll have you all expelled! All see you all in Azkaban!"

"Wemmick, Wemmick, Wemmick," Marissa said in a patronizing voice. "You really haven't noticed whose headstone this is, have you?"

Wemmick lifted his head up, and swooned back down when he read his own name upon it. "Proceed, Brother Morgan," Marissa nodded to James who approached him menacingly with the knife brandished.

"Wait no! No! You can't do this to me! I - I didn't even sleep with Lily!" Wemmick cried desperately.

"Don't try that one on us, Wemmick," Remus snarled. "The entire school knows that you did."

"I didn't! I swear! I lied! She broke up with me! I swear to Merlin I didn't sleep with her!"

"So you left her during the night, then?" Remus replied.

"Well discerned, Brother Joseph, that calls for a more ritualistic and longer castration," Marissa said calmly.

"No, NO! Please, please, I never had sex with Lily Evans!"

There was a slight pause and James's knife stopped just as it came close enough to cause serious worry. "You know, Sister Jane, Brothers in arms, I do believe that he is telling us the truth."

"Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Wemmick almost sobbed with relief though James voice was just as hard with anger as before.

"It's too bad that that doesn't matter," James continued. "After all, the whole school believes that you did."

"I'll set it straight! I swear I'll set it straight!" Wemmick begged him desperately.

"And apologize to Lily? Then never come near her again?" Sirius demanded.

"Anything! Anything!"

"Swear an oath, a binding oath," James pressed him, moving the blade a little closer to his prey.

"I swear! I swear!"

"Put away the knife then, James," Marissa said in her normal voice. The boys also abruptly dropped out of character.

Wemmick was almost blind with the intensity of the warring emotions within him, relief and rage. "You - you set this whole thing up to - "

"Yes, and you may go, once we have performed one more spell," Marissa replied. She put her wand to his forehead and whispered very quickly in some very ancient sounding language. Then she pulled her wand away and said, "I suppose it's only fair to warn you that the spell just cast is one that prevents you from ever mentioning this meeting. However obliquely, however subtly it may be, even if you merely mention this detention you were assigned, your balls will fall off. If you go to Dumbledore or any other authority or parent or any form of media and press, they won't grow back. Now, if you would open the door for him, Brother Percival."

Peter opened the door and Wemmick saw immediately that he had never left the school or, indeed, the room. Once his bonds were cut, he wanted desperately to spring at all of them and revenge himself upon them, but then the Marauders and that crazy bitch of theirs had already proven themselves to be masters of revenge. And Wemmick must call himself a novice by comparison. So he staggered for the door and slammed it shut behind him, and didn't look back until he was back in Hufflepuff Dorm.

Marissa lit the extinguished lights with a wave of her wand. "Well, chaps, that went rather well."

"Marissa, is there really a charm that - " James began, offended that he hadn't found such a thing first, charms being his forte.

"Of course not, didn't you recognize today's Ancient Runes lesson?" Marissa said with what was almost a laugh. The four boys stared at her. "It doesn't matter if it really exists as long as he believes it exists, and he certainly won't want to put it to the test, now will he? So whether or not it's real, he will act as if he is under this curse. And that, my friends, is real magic."

Remus was the first to let out a bark of laughter. "I have an idea," he added, "Let's dance on the bastard's grave."

He immediately caught the hand of a laughing Marissa and twirled her around in a swinging dancestep, the other Marauders joining in more clumsily in a rhythmic, pounding tribal dance.

* * *

As the oath dictated (which was genuine magic), Wemmick stood up in front of the entire Great Hall the very next morning at breakfast and declared himself to be a liar. He further confessed that he had never had sex with Lily Evans, had been dumped by her for pressing and obsessing over the issue, and apologized publicly for spreading an untruth about her. 

Lily glared at all five of them when this shocking display was over. Even over the roar of babble from the school as Wemmick seated himself, Lily's angry voice could be heard, "WHAT DID YOU DO?" She was glaring at James particularly.

"I don't know what you're talking about Lily, though I am dreadfully glad that your name was cleared," Marissa said in a picture of utter innocence.

"I wish you weren't involved in this at all, Riss," Lily said in such a calm tone that the Marauders started in surprise. "I wish you boys hadn't done whatever it is you did to him, how am I ever going to get a boyfriend now? But Riss, I'm sorry you even had to think of this. I wish it was one of the boys who found out. You've been violated worse than this was."

Marissa's smile flickered and died. Lily looked stricken for a moment, then Marissa managed to muster another smile. "It's not your fault any more than that was mine, Lils," she replied. "Dennis and Mal-foy are the guilty ones." Peter looked Marissa up and down and realized that, despite her master plan and the emotional damage it may have done to the overly arrogant prick, she was right. Lily's reputation had taken a far more serious hit, and Marissa's psyche had suffered far more damage even from just the constant reminder that this scandal had proved.

Unfortunately, Peter had no more time for such thoughts (and rationalizations of his actions) because Professor McGonagall had come to the same conclusion as Lily when she heard Wemmick's confession. "You four," she said in a crisp, angry voice, "Come with me." Her lips were very thin, but nothing like they had been known to be at times in the Marauders presence. Thinner than when McGonagall chastened Marissa for the Potter's boxers stunt, but thicker than when she had learned about Mundungus hiding in the castle.

Marissa started to get up to say something, but Remus used her shoulder to push himself up and pressed her down onto the bench. "You're already on thin ice, don't you dare get yourself in trouble over this," he hissed in her ear. The other Marauders caught her eyes to agree and signal her to keep quiet. They followed McGonagall wordlessly from the hall, stopping only to pick up Wemmick on their way past the Hufflepuff table.

McGonagall took Wemmick in first, instructing the boys gruffly to stand outside her office. Half an hour later, they both came out, her lips thinner than before. Wemmick walked off without looking at anyone, and McGonagall beckoned the Marauders into her office. It was too familiar by now to be intimidating. "It appears that you are in the clear," McGonagall began, sounding furious about it. "Whatever you did to frighten that boy into declaring the truth seems to have also been sufficient to silence him about the matter. However, I know it was the four of you."

The four boys very wisely said nothing. James and Sirius looked her boldly and shamelessly in the eye and Remus faced her calmly and proudly. Peter tried to imitate them, but kept glancing nervously at James and Sirius. Fortunately, this was not an uncommon thing for Peter to be doing under stressful circumstances.

"Mr Lupin, you will now alternate hosting all prefect assigned detentions for the remainder of the year," Professor McGonagall said crisply. "And I will tell all the prefects and teachers to keep an especially close eye on the four of you and Mr Wemmick. I am now issuing an unofficial restraining order on all of you not to approach, respond to, or go near Dennis Wemmick, is that clear?"

"Professor," James said shamelessly, "Is it fair to punish Remus if, as you say, you have no proof?"

"Of course it wouldn't be, Mr Potter," McGonagall replied though it was quite clear that she was annoyed by his gall in pointing that out when he had so narrowly escaped the noose. "But that is not my reason," she said though none of them were fooled, "It is simply that with O.W.L.s approaching, it seems like hosting detentions nearly every night will be quite a strain on Miss Fletcher and I wish that burden to be eased. Mr Lupin is quite willing to do that for a friend, I hope?"

"Of course, Professor," Remus said quickly before James could say anything else to annoy McGonagall with his smugness.

"Good, you may go."

"Not yet, Professor," James said, sounding as indignant as McGonagall. "What about Wemmick? What are you doing to him for what he did to Lily?"

"I have spoken with Mr Wemmick, as will his Head of House Professor Sprout. Don't you think that what you did to him was bad enough?" she said seriously. "Besides, he's already had a detention for this offense, Mr Prewett informs me."

* * *

Remus and Marissa decided to make up the dancing lesson that they had skipped on the first night that neither of them had to host a detention. What surprised Remus was that Marissa was furious about McGonagall's order which did, essentially, lighten her load, and it wasn't even because she thought that it was unfair to single out only Remus to be punished. "You have no idea how much studying I get done hosting a detention simply because I have absolutely nothing better to do," she had explained, sounding highly frustrated as she did. "Everywhere else there are so many distractions..." 

Remus had laughed then, knowing just how easily Marissa could get wrapped up in the problems of others or entertaining people. He also knew just how to talk to her about things like this, "Don't be selfish, Riss, I can't seem to get any studying done either. I guess it's the price you pay for roommates who have no work ethic whatsoever."

After that, Marissa smiled and agreed laughingly that he could host all the detentions that he wanted. She did not, however, seem particularly eager to begin the lesson. She seemed content instead to sit on the window ledge and stare out at the rain. The look in her eyes was almost...melancholy. It was strange to think of her in such a way. Ever since he had known her, she had been so fiercely bubbly and happy. No, scratch that. Now that he thought about it, she had only been an aggressively happy person since Malfoy had...

Almost as if she had been reading his thoughts, she said abruptly, "Do you think of me differently since I thought of the Castration plot?" She did not look at him but continued to stare out the window hugging her knees. Remus didn't know quite what to say, "Because I think that it was...it was like my way of striking back at Malfoy." Lucius Malfoy was the one and only person that Marissa called by his last name. She didn't even adopt nicknames for most people, including the Marauders' chosen pseudonyms.

Remus still hadn't thought of anything to say what felt like a millenium later. Marissa spoke again into the silence, "I think of myself differently, so I thought you must. I didn't think I would...that I could strike at somebody for the sins of someone else. I, I punished Dennis for Malfoy's sin. Why am I like that? I mean, well, I'm _mean._"

"No," Remus cried almost involuntarily, hurrying over to sit next to her on the sill. He wasn't sure what to do when he got there so merely sat there feeling like he should do something to comfort her but not knowing what. "You're the nicest person that I know and Wemmick - "

"Don't tell me he deserved it!" Marissa turned and said rather fiercely. "Not when you talked Sirius out of doing almost the same thing to Belle when they broke up! You thought it was terrible but you certainly didn't think it was worthy of castration then! Or the threat."

"Riss, listen, no, listen to me," he said, trying to capture her unwilling attention and finally just grabbing her face and forcing it to look at him. "How you've dealt with Malfoy without help from any of us for all these years I'll never know, never be able to imagine, but I promise you this: it hasn't turned you bitter or spiteful or angry and certainly not mean. You are the brightest, happiest, cleverest, most forgiving and nonconfrontational girl that I've ever known. And not nonconfrontational because you don't stand up for yourself, you just don't pounce on other people's rights to protect your own. Unlike some people that I could name." That earned a slight smile. "Riss, don't beat yourself up about this. And don't hold on to the Malfoy...incident. You can talk to me about it you know." She had an odd expression on her face, so Remus immediately backpedaled, "Or Lily, of course. Or anybody, just so long as you talk to somebody."

"I never told Lily directly," Marissa said in a very soft voice. Remus gave a start of surprise and realized that he still had her face in his hands. He waited a moment, then released it. "She would have wanted to talk about it all the time and I just wanted to forget that it ever happened. I know you boys told her, but I didn't want to say it all over again." Marissa shuddered. Then suddenly her eyes lit up with sudden realization, "He called me a halfblood!" she cried. "All these times it's played itself over and over in my head, and I didn't realize! He knew about my mother!"

Neither Remus nor Marissa knew what to say after that, so they were silent for a long time.

Again it was Marissa who eventually broke the silence. "I almost feel like I can finally let it go," Marissa said, again in that soft voice. "Malfoy and the rape attempt." Remus blanched. Marissa didn't. "I can say the word at least," she said with a wry smile at his expression. "The Dennis ordeal was a catharsis, what I wish I could do to Lucius to pay him back for the way he violated me, took away my dignity, frightened me. I wanted to do that to him. I'm not proud of that, but I always knew that that's what I wanted, to take from him what he took from me. So I took it from Dennis because he hurt my friend and I saw my pain in hers. Even though I never talked to her about it or even brought myself to tell it to her. She would have been almost as exposed as me, felt it anyway, to realize the whole school thought her a slut." Marissa raised her eyes from her knees to Remus's face and said to him, "Thank you, Remus, for whatever it is that let you find me in time. Thank you. Because I don't think I've ever said it before."

Remus pulled her into his arms, his mind reeling with the thought that he had never thought to have: thank Merlin he was a werewolf. Thank Merlin that he had been able to save her because of it. She turned so that she was leaning against him with his arms around her. She laid her head against his shoulder and just rested there. Remus held her and tried to find words that would wipe away her condemnation of herself, that would erase her pain, that would stop her from calling her righteous anger evil. In the end, his silent presence was more than any words he could have mustered would have done.

The rain poured down on the window in a pleasant and soothing syncopated rhythm that almost eased them into sleep. They sat there unmoving for a long moment out of time, not caring if seconds or years had passed. They fell into breathing together without realizing it, their eyes half-closed.

"Thank you, Remus," Marissa said, turning her face a little to look at him, "For this." She smiled, a real genuine smile that he recognized as her own. "For listening. I guess it's not a good time for me to not understand what Gus is talking about."

"If it makes you feel any better, I never understand my parents," Remus replied, for once not broody when he spoke on this subject.

"My father actually took him to a movie," she said. "And I'm so selfish I'm not happy about it. You'd think I would have been thrilled that he took the time to go see Star Wars with Gus, but instead I feel left out because he loves it so much he has this whole new lingo I can't understand and that's all he ever wants to talk about."

"I always imagined that that was rather what your and Lily's families would feel when you first came home from Hogwarts," Remus said reflectively, "Except it's a whole world that they can never share with you."

"Gus'll be a wizard, I know it," Marissa replied, "But I take your point."

"You must really miss him."

"Yes, I miss having him here, but I don't think we ever really talked about too much," Marissa said, "We play together mostly, but the more I think about it the more I realize that however much I tried to share Hogwarts with him, it kept us from sharing our lives anymore. We built most of our relationship on Hogwarts talk. Now he's seen that and wants to talk about Star Wars instead, but I can't base our relationship on that because I don't understand it. You and Lily are the only ones that I really talk to about important things anymore."

"What about James? And Sirius? I notice Peter seems uneasy around you - " Remus cut himself off, horrified at what he had implied about Peter.

Marissa, of course, sensed this. "Don't worry, I noticed too," but Marissa didn't tell him any more. "And I talk to James and Sirius about _their_ lives. They need to change some things in them, but I - "

"Don't have anything to learn from them? Are perfect?" Remus teased.

"Don't want to burden them until they've worked out their own issues," Marissa corrected. "After all, James has to see me as the consummate fan so he eventually gets embarassed by the attention," Remus snorted his disbelief in the success of that tactic, "And Sirius needs to see someone who can be happy all the time so that he believes that he can be truly happy someday too. That this little group you have going isn't the only happiness he'll ever have out of life."

"But above all, they want to be your friend, Riss, and you need to let them be a part of your life," Remus said seriously.

"Is this your way of telling me you're tired of hearing me whine about my family?" Marissa laughed.

"Believe me, I'm in no position to complain about that, the way I go on about the vultures," Remus laughed. "I know one mistake that I would never make if I could be a father."

"What, you won't have kids?" Marissa said in surprise.

Remus struggled not to stiffen and give himself away completely. The intimacy of their conversation had disarmed him so that he almost let his secret out. He backpedaled quickly, "I suppose I don't trust parenting not be a disaster anymore," he said. "But the main thing that I'd warn people about is never be rich."

Remus had expected Marissa to laugh or ask why. Instead she nodded in agreement, "To get rich you have to be around the office constantly. To be a good parent, you have to be there. That's the most important factor. And I think it's better to have a big family, so there's always someone around, taking care of each other."

"A big, poor, happy family," Remus said wistfully.

"That's the only way to do it," Marissa sighed.

Silence fell again, but this time neither felt inclined to break it.

* * *

It wasn't only the Slytherin prefects who thought that Lizzie and Gideon were far too cutsy now that they had finally gotten over themselves and delcared themselves a couple. And to think, a few weeks ago that had been what they thought they had wanted out of the pair. Instead of spending the meetings bickering or loudly ignoring each other (and managing to trip each other up with their pointed silences), they were giggly and flirty in each other's presence. Even Marissa eventually admitted that it wasn't so sweet anymore. 

Not that they weren't still a very competent Head Boy and Girl, they just tended to get distracted when they tried to work together as a team. They had formerly been very good at this, so it was very tedious to endure their inefficiency now. Karkaroff summed up most people's thoughts in his comment, "You'd think they'd want to get this over with faster so that they could slink off and snog some more."

It had been decided among the prefects minus Marissa that the time had come to say something to the Heads about getting themselves back on track, and also decided by the prefects minus Marissa that Marissa should be the one to tell them. They had elected Remus to explain her mission to his partner. That was why every single prefect shot him meaningful glances throughout the unorganized affair that had become of the orderly and efficient prefects meetings. It was time to broach the subject with Marissa so that she could broach the subject with the Heads, who would hopefully stop acting like a honeymooning couple any day now.

"So, if no one has any other business...I suppose that's all we have to cover," Lizzie said somewhat nervously, as if she were quite positive that they had more to go over but equally certain that she had no idea what it was and was unlikely to remember it anytime soon.

"Actually, I have some other business," Remus said startling everyone out of their bored or annoyed stupors. "About the Hogsmeade weekend coming up."

Lizzie looked positively beside herself, "Oh we can't have forgotten anything there!" she cried. "We went over it for hours last night!" Gideon leaned over her from behind and arranged his notes on the weekend more calmly, pointedly ignoring the supposedly-knowing looks that some of the prefects were indulging in.

"No, no, I'm sure you haven't forgotten anything," Remus assured her quickly. "I meant I wanted to add another project."

Lizzie looked positively world weary when she regarded him, "Another project?"

If he hadn't wanted to bring this off well, Remus would have been sorely tempted to laugh at her attitude towards the idea. "Don't worry, I'll handle all the logisitics and ask Dumbledore for his permission." Lizzie was struggling not to look relieved, and Gideon nodded at him absently to continue, "I suggest we offer all the students a chance to go the Muggle cinema. I'm sure the Muggle-borns will have heard all about the new rage _Star Wars_ from their families over break, and I think Dumbledore will agree as there's a Muggle settlement that's just a thirty-minute walk from Hogsmeade. Professor Perkins has already agreed to chaperone. And since it's most likely to be Half- or Muggle-borns or their friends who want to go, it won't look like any more than a large birthday party or fan club or something to the little town of Rhynie."

Remus didn't dare look at Marissa, focusing instead on Gideon as Lizzie looked like she was about to refuse. Gideon spoke before she could, however, "If Dumbledore approves, I think you may have something," he commented. "But see if you can't get another teacher or two to go along with it, and you'll need more prefects to help you supervise everyone."

"I'll do it," Marissa said in a level voice, "But I don't know how much use most of the prefects will be in a Muggle cinema, there's scarcely a halfblood here excluding myself and the Head Girl."

Gideon again spoke before Lizzie could, "Then Lizzie and I would be delighted to go. That is, if our seventh year prefects don't mind monitoring the Hogsmeade trip as a whole?" There was no instant uproar, so Gideon continued, "Wonderful. Take it to Dumbledore and tell us next time what he decides. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the end of the meeting."

Lizzie looked for a moment as if she were about to protest, then shrugged and waved her wand to clear her notes. Everyone else did likewise and rose anxiously to leave. Marissa stood but did not follow the chattering with a vengeance crowd out the door. Remus did likewise, looking at her levelly. Her lips were moving as if she were trying to keep herself from smiling or crying. "Now, Marissa - "

But he got no further, for she had launched herself at him and was hugging him. "Thank you, Remus," she whispered in his ear. Rather startled, was unsure what to do and patted her uncertainly on the back a little.

He didn't have long to be uncomfortable, however, because an authoritative voice from nowhere startled them both. "You should be ashamed of yourselves! PDA in the Prefects Room!" Marissa released him and stepped back, laughing and beaming at him.

"I remember that voice," she said with the laugh apparent in her voice. "It yelled at Gideon when he tried to get away from the detention set-up when he realized that I had arranged for Lizzie to be there."

"Ah, speaking of which," Remus jumped right in, "The other prefects and I have been meaning to talk to you about our esteemed Lizzie and Gideon. We think that you should talk to them."

"About getting down to work and not flirting with each other instead of conducting the meetings?" Marissa laughed. "Now, I see why you went through all that trouble to butter me up with the movie plan." She laughed and took his arm as they walked out. Her eyes, however, said that she was very grateful indeed that he had thought of a way for her to reconnect with her brother. That made the entire thing worthwhile for Remus.

* * *

At first Sirius had thought that it was his imagination. Then he thought that perhaps it was just venting because even the Slytherins were feeling the stress of O.W.L.s looming on the horizon. Then came an inevitable conclusion: the Slytherins were exacting their revenge for refusing their Dark Lord. Actually, probably not _their_ lord yet, except in a few other extreme cases. More likely it was merely their parents' master that they were defending. It didn't change the fact that he was tired of being hit with stray, "accidental" hexes every time he turned around. The worst of it was that none of them stuck around long enough for him to retaliate or even identify them. 

That was why when all of a sudden he felt someone bump into him from behind, he whirled around and screamed at the unfortunate party, "What is your problem, scumball? Get away from me!" The person spun and ran. It took Sirius a full fifteen seconds to compute that it was Peter that he had just yelled at.

He immediately ran after him, "Peter, wait! Peter! I thought you were someone else!" He ran, but he didn't catch Peter.

"Lover's quarrel, Black?"

"Eat dung, Karkaroff!"

"Sounds tasty, Sirius, I hope you have enough to go around," Lily said sarcastically, grabbing his arm as he passed by. "I saw Peter running past, what happened?"

"Oh BUGGER!" Sirius shouted in frustration. "I thought he was a Slytherin. I rounded on him. I'm just so tired of them being on my case constantly, ever since the Easter Episode. The whole 'I don't want to be a slave of evil incarnate' thing."

"Do you want me to talk to him?" Lily asked, looking up at him sympathetically. Sirius looked down at her, slightly surprised. There was no real reason for him to be surprised, really. After all, he and Lily used to be very close. Not as close as she was with Marissa by any means nor even as close as she and James used to be, but hell, they had dated hadn't they? Their friendship had been mostly stilted since then.

Sirius mentally shook himself. Why was he making such a big thing of Lily being nice? Slytherins and O.W.L.s must be getting to him even more than he thought. "Did you see where he went?"

"No, but I know where he is," she said with a smile.

"How? If you didn't see where he went?" Sirius demanded.

"I didn't see where he went, I just saw when he disappeared," Lily replied simply. Sirius raised an eyebrow at his friend. At least, he was pretty sure that Lily was still his friend. After the sundering of her and James's friendship Sirius really hadn't been sure. Particularly as he had had no small part in causing it. Not mention the whole Wemmick fight recently. Lily was the kind to forget that she broke up with him when thinking about the fight.

Lily laughed at his confusion, "You remember when we were dating? And you showed me what you termed a, what was it? 'Lovely little make-out nook' in this hall? Right about the place where Peter would have disappeared to," Lily said as she led him over to a wall. She appeared for a minute to be counting stones, then banged twice on one and a small hole opened up in the wall. Sure enough, Peter had hidden himself inside. "I figured all you Marauders must have known about it."

"I'm sorry, Peter, I thought you - "

"I heard you talking," Peter said shortly. "It's okay, I guess."

"Ah Peter, don't act like that, you know we love you," Lily said with a smile.

"You do? Because I thought that was James," Peter replied.

"You little!" Lily said, making to dive at Peter. Sirius caught her before she could launch herself at Peter, laughing for the first time in a long time. It felt like forever. Peter laughed too, and even Lily relaxed enough that Sirius felt comfortable releasing her. "All right, Peter, all right," she chuckled.

"Nice, Wormtail," Sirius added.

"All _right,_" Lily cried. "We're about to be late for Charms."

"Which, incidentally, is James's favorite class," Sirius pointed out with smirk. Lily elbowed him in the ribs.

* * *

If it were ever possible for there to be one universal opinion held by every fifth year regardless of house, blood, and creed, it was that O.W.L.s were driving them absolutely batty and a distraction was infinitely welcome. Thus, even people like Lily were glad for the excuse of a Quidditch match to put down the bloody books that were beginning to haunt them even in their dreams, or rather nightmares. It was also generally agreed among the members of the James Potter Fan Club, and the semi-independent Gryffindor Booster Club, that now was the time to make a splash. 

In an unprecendented display of discretion, not one soul in the castle outside of the generally held to be rather insane club knew what they were planning. Just that they were planning something big. In fact, Marissa's hint to Remus not to dare miss the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match was the most anyone knew of their plans.

Very, very soon, despite the fact that the entire school knew it was coming, they would be dumbfounded by what the Club, mostly Marissa Fletcher, had up their sleeve.

If they had known, the Marauders would have found it harder to get to sleep the night. They did not have a problem with waking up in the morning at all, though it did pose a problem for several minutes trying to figure out where Marissa's voice was coming from.

"JAMES POTTER! GET OUT OF BED THIS INSTANT! WHY ARE YOU STILL SLEEPING? YOU HAVE TO BE ON THE PITCH IN AN HOUR AND YOU HAVEN'T EVEN HAD BREAKFAST YET! AND THE REST OF YOU! LETTING HIM! THE QUIDDITCH CUP IS ON THE LINE! HOW COULD YOU LET HIM SLEEP IN! GET OUT OF BED, GET DRESSED, AND GET DOWN TO BREAKFAST IN FIFTEEN MINUTES OR I WARN YOU, THIS IS THE MEDIUM VOLUME OF THIS MESSAGE!"

After five very confusing minutes, the boys managed to throw the megaphone contraption that was shouting at them out the window. Remus immediately ran to his wardrobe and began throwing his clothes on, urging them all to do the same.

Sirius and Peter groaned though James hurried into the bathroom as if worried that his friends would block him. "Remus, _what_ are you doing?" Peter said in exasperation as if speaking to a dullard. "_We_ don't have to get up, just James, he's the one playing. We don't have to be up for a full hour, we'll bring breakfast down to the pitch. That's what we always do."

"That may - " Remus said, his voice slightly muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head, "Be our routine." He was now hopping to regain his balance as he attempted to put his shoes on standing, something that seldom actually takes less time than sitting down to do it. "But, think about it. Marissa Fletcher just took the trouble to wake us all up in time for breakfast, and you do remember what that chick pulled at the last breakfast she took the trouble to make certain that we attended?"

Sirius sprang out of bed. A minute later, with an accompanying groan, Peter did too.

* * *

Lily, though not nearly so attached to early morning shut-eye, was harder to get out of bed. Marissa eventually resorted to dragging her best friend bodily from the bed and throwing her robes at her. "Honestly, Lils, I've been up for two hours already," Marissa mock-admonished, throwing down a button atop the pile of clothes next to Lily. 

Lily's early morning mind felt too groggy to contemplate the kind of mischief that Marissa Fletcher could accomplish with a two hour jumpstart on the rest of the castle. "And what have you been doing in that time?" Lily asked, blinking away the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Making preparations," Marissa replied in that bouncy, laughing voice that always meant that she had been up to a great deal of mischief and wasn't likely to be remorseful in the least. She turned and positively pranced back out of the room again and presumably back to wherever it is that she had been making trouble.

Lily sighed. She'd be back if Lily wasn't there soon. Grudgingly, she moved over to her wardrobe and tried to find something that was suitably covered with scarlet and gold so that Marissa wouldn't send her straight back up to the dorm the minute she came down.

* * *

The Marauders sat down gingerly at the Gryffindor table as if waiting for it to explode. After a very tense moment during which they all looked at eachother and every other quite normal thing with grave suspicion, James shrugged his shoulders and tucked into the food with a vengeance. After a moment, the others joined him, feeling either an acute sense of foreboding or, in those of less faith, a severe let down. 

Marissa bounced out the front doors a few moments later, and waved her wand up at the sky. Far above her head, a wind started stirring and because of the very complex charm, began to move a cloud to hover over the castle. Slightly exhausted a moment later, Marissa skipped merrily back into the Great Hall.

A little later, Remus was unfortunate enough to steal a glance up at the enchanted ceiling with a half-chewed mouthful. It was unfortunate, because he immediately choked. His distress was noted with surprise by his tablemates. Sirius and Peter followed his gaze up to the ceiling. They were slightly more fortunate; their jaws merely dropped and spilled their food into their laps.

Marissa, skipping gaily by, pounded Remus resoundingly on the back until the offending piece of food shot out of his mouth onto James, who finally looked up from his porridge. "Merlin, Riss!" Remus rasped the moment he had his breath back. Marissa laughed, enjoying the incredulous faces all around her.

James raised an eyebrow at him, and Remus shot a shell-shocked glance up at the ceiling. James took this surprise far better than the rest of his friends, though it must have been extremely disconcerting to see one's own face in the clouds. Literally.

Rain clouds formed the messy hair that stuck out at odd angles; his face was the golden clouds that came only at sunsets, his lips were the darker red just before the sun dips below the horizon with bright white clouds as teeth set in a rogue smile, and his eyes were the pure white clouds with two rings where the blue sky shown through. It was surprisingly accurate and looked exactly like James Potter, if his face were a hundred feet in diameter and half a mile above the ground.

James looked down at the table again after a long moment staring up at the ceiling. Marissa was watching him expectantly. "My eyes aren't blue," he said cheekily, grinning up at her. The grin, however, lacked his usual bravado.

"Sorry, but brown clouds are terribly hard to find," Marissa smirked, turning to skip back off down the table, "Not that I admit to anything of course!" she called back over her shoulder.

Lily was fully awake by the time she reached the Great Hall, but she almost immediately wondered if she was in a dream. What conceivable reason could there be for everyone to be staring up at the ceiling in a dumbfounded way? What weather could be that interesting? And why did the Slytherins all look sick to their stomach? She immediately glanced up at the ceiling.

She let out a shrill scream and her hand flew to her mouth. She was backing away, staring at the ceiling in bewilderment. Marissa came skipping up looking far too pleased with herself. "You're crazy, you're positively insane, and that is disturbing!" Lily cried in a highly distressed voice. "How did you...what possessed you to do that!"

"Beats studying," Marissa said laughingly. Lily was not amused.

* * *

The school made its way out onto the Quidditch Pitch, casting nervous glances at the cloud formation that had already migrated until it was hovering above them. Just about everyone found it possitively hilarious. How James felt about the monstrosity was something only his Quidditch team knew, as he had walked directly to the changing rooms after breakfast. How the teachers felt about it was far less of a mystery. 

Professor McGonagall, to everyone's very great surprise, appeared to be fighting very hard not to laught. Professor Delacour was suffering from no such inhibitions and was chuckling to herself. Several of her colleagues were shooting the petite brunette unappreciative looks that didn't appear to upset her in the least. Professor Vindictus Viridian, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was far less amused. "It's tantamount to cheating!"

"I wouldn't be so harsh," the good-natured Professor Flitwick said, not looking particularly pleased but at least not antagonistic. He appeared to be trying to will the cloud formation away, or at least come up with a charm that would scatter the different parts of it.

"It's your team that's set to be distracted by that monstrosity," Professor Viridian pointed out vehemently. As a first year professor he hadn't quite learned yet that professors who weren't Head of House were expected to remain impartial, and thus his Slytherin sympathies were generally frowned upon.

"I have a feeling it won't affect the game, Vindictus," Professor McGonagall said with a smile.

"Oh really?" he drawled. "And what do you base that on? The fact that it's the _Gryffindor_ Seeker's face up on the clouds there?"

"No, because we know the probable source, Vindictus, and from your observations of the President of the James Potter Fan Club in your classes, do you truly believe that she would compromise a match on which the fate of the Quidditch Cup hangs?" Professor Flitwick said, sounding as if he had just realized what he was proclaiming so logical and self-evident.

"You think the sky formation will go away? Does the same opinion hold for the pitch painting?" Professor Viridian said scathingly, gesturing angrily at the ground with also was bedecked with the likeness of James Potter.

The Ravenclaw Quidditch captain was saying much the same thing to Madam Hooch, "I don't know how on earth you can expect us to continue this game! It's unfair! It's a distraction, it's a low tactic used by the Gryffindor team to - "

"I object to that," James interjected, approaching Madam Hooch and Peggy Kong being carefulnotto wear the same rogue smile as his image on the pitch and sky. "We had no prior knowledge of this. Gryffindor honor would not permit such a thing."

"It was obviously done by a Gryffindor!" Peggy almost shrieked in protest.

"Perhaps, Miss Kong, but that cannot be proven," Madam Hooch said calmly. She was almost alone in her serene demeanor in the stadium. "And Quidditch matches have not been cancelled during snowstorms, tornadoes, and tsunamis, I will not reschedule one for a cloud formation. I take it your team does not wish to forfeit in protest?"

Peggy sullenly shook her head. "No, Madam Referee."

"Then have your teams line up in the changing rooms and I will alert the announcer that we are ready to begin." Peggy stomped off, and James too retreated back to the changing rooms.

"Welcome ladies and gentleman, to the Ravenclaw Gryffindor Quidditch match! I'm Gideon Prewett, and I'll be your commentator today and I must say, what bizarre weather we're having. It appears that Madam Hooch has ruled that the, shall we say mural? on the pitch is not a significant reason to stop the match. I still say that you've gone way over the top this time, Marissa," Gideon's voice rang out over the stadium.

Immediately from the Gryffindor stands, the cry went up from the James Potter Fan Club, _"We didn't do it!"_

"You're not fooling anyone for a second, girls!" Gideon cried. "Do take a bow, you've outdone even our infamous Marauders!" Marissa gave a great flourishing bow and blew a kiss at the crowd. Gideon's laughter rang through the stadium. "All right, since this tactic of the Gryffindors has not slowed down the game, may I present to you the Ravenclaw Quidditch team!"

"Penelope Henderson, Jeffery Davies, Gary Bryce, Barry Patil, Larry Patil, and Cindy Liu all under the direction of captain Peggy Kong," Gideon announced with a good deal of House pride. What was almost but not quite a boo issued from the Gryffindor stands which was drowned out by the wild cheers from the Ravenclaw stands, the ones which weren't pouring over the rulebooks frantically to find a way to force the removal of what was growing to be termed The Distraction.

"And the Gryffindor Quidditch team," Gideon said with a less enthusiasm, "Jacob Bell, Douglas Crom, Sam Adams, Henrietta Fawcett, Victoria Lovegood, Sarah Ackerley, and, as if there weren't enough of him out here already, captain James Potter." The roar from the Club was positively deafening.

"And any of you gaggle that's in Ravenclaw, I must insist that you desert to your House's stands immediately," Gideon said, shaking his head at the girls going positively berserk. "And if you're down there in it somewhere, Lizzie, we are officially broken up."

"Mr. Prewett, if you don't mind, we'd like to keep a little professionalism in this game," Professor McGonagall said with a sigh.

"Sorry, Professor, but I think that ship has sailed," Gideon said, still sounding immensely amused.

"Nevertheless, the teams are lining up," Professor McGonagall said pointedly.

"All right, Professor, Madam Hooch is carrying the balls out onto the pitch," Gideon commented. "She's released them and there's the whistle and - by Merlin it seems our Marissa has a sense of fair play afterall! The murals have vanished and the clouds have scattered, and yes, the Chasers are recovering from their shock, it's Jacob Bell with the Quaffle."

Marissa, standing at the front of the crowd of the gathered Club which took up about one-fourth of the stands, looked very much the comic figure. At least three Gryffindor scarfs were wrapped around her, and everyone of them was covered with large buttons. The buttons were all same: a picture of James Potter's face and his rogue smile, winking cheekily at the onlookers. She was waving her arms about like a conductor and the gaggle of witches was roaring cheers at her urgings. She looked like nothing so much as the leader of a mental ward's rebellion.

"Careful, Ken Kesi, they'll lobotomize you!" Lily, who obviously had the same opinion, yelled over the ruckus.

"He had a good run before he fell!" Marissa shouted back, laughing. "If I remember _One Flew Over the Cookus Nest_ properly!"

Lily sighed heavily in disgust and made her way to the far corner of the crowd. Truth be told, Lily had started in the last few years to truly enjoy Quidditch Matches. She didn't want to tell any of them that, not least because she had never officially admitted her former dislike, but somewhere along the way, she had gotten caught up in the excitement of it all. The Chasers working as such a seamless team, having to learn to think together almost in perfect unison, the Beaters balancing protection with destruction, having to be aware and ruthless at every moment, the Keeper so constantly on his guard as the Quaffle could change hands at any moment, the Seeker having the hardest job of all, to keep his focus and concentration on searching for an almost invisible ball with everything whirling about him in wild motion, could there be a more intense game than this? If there was, it certainly wasn't played fifty feet in the air!

That was why she preferred not to watch the game with her friends, so she wouldn't have to keep up the I-Hate-James face. It wasn't that she didn't, it was merely that they reacted so to any letting down of her guard that she was forced to keep it constantly up. She and James might have been able to coexist if their friends had nudged each other knowingly everytime that she did something other than glare at him. Then again, they sent each other knowing looks then too. They were truly incorrigible.

And Marissa was the worst. For crying out loud, putting Potter's face in the clouds! "And I do believe that the Potter Fan Club is now singing an ode to their hero, take a bow James, you've driven them all over the edge!"

"Gideon, the game?"

"Oh yeah, Gryffindor scored again. Woopee."

"Gideon, if you cannot comment in an unbiased - "

"All right, all right, let's give it up for Sam Adams, everybody, truly a very talented girl!"

"Thank you, Mr Prewett."

"Can I go back to calling those ninnies down there insane now?"

"My, it seems that a Beater has just made a rather spectacular play," Professor McGonagall said pointedly.

"Ah, yes, Sarah Ackerley of Gryffindor prevents Ravenclaw scoring with a tremendous bludger to the Keeper and captain, Peggy Kong," Gideon said, sounding rather deflated. "Oh ho! Maybe should have saved that bludger, Fawcett! Cindy Liu just went into a dive! Can she have seen the snitch this early?"

Even the fan club quieted as they watched Cindy go into a rather spectacular dive, everyone waiting in puzzlement for James to spring after her. Only when Cindy pulled up just short of the ground (in a rather impressive display of flying ability) did everyone realize that Potter had recognized her Wronski Feint.

"And a rather spectacular job by Miss Liu, pity really that it didn't work," Gideon said, sounding rather disappointed indeed.

He was almost drowned out, however, by a voice that positively shrieked into the quieter stadium, "_JAMES! THE SNITCH!"_ James immediately whirled to see the entire fan club imitating Marissa's desperate pointing in the direction.

"Where?" Gideon cried in surprise, squinting for the small golden ball.

"There!" cried Lily, though not nearly loud enough to be heard over the roar from the crowd as both Seekers raced toward it.

"Potter seems to have spotted it, he's miles ahead because of Liu's feint. And yes, I think he's got it. Match and Cup to Gryffindor," Gideon said, trying and failing spectacularly to mask his disappointment. "This is the third year running for Gryffindor to capture the Cup but its first under James Potter as captain. The final score stands at Gryffindor 200 to Ravenclaws 30. All in all, a great day for Quidditch, and congratulations to the Gryffindor team: Chasers Jacob Bell, Samantha Adams, and Douglas Crom, Keeper Henrietta Fawcett, Beathers Victoria Lovegood and Sarah Ackerley, and Seeker James Potter."

Though Gideon's response to the game's end was deflated, absolute pandemonium ranged in the stands. Lily, half the length of the Quidditch field away from any of the friends who would never let her live it down, was jumping up and down excitedly, hugging strangers and cheering wildly. Marissa, who had been yelling herself hoarse cheering James on in those final seconds, had latched on to Sirius next to her and was hugging him while screaming in his ear in her excitement.

The rest of the club behind her was postively swooning. Most immediately rushed onto the field as the Gryffindor team descended after a lap of honor around the field. Peggy Kong made a point to shake James's hand while they were both still in the air rather than waiting to find him in the chaos down on the pitch.

In the slightly depleted stands, Marissa released Sirius but was still jumping up and down in excitement. "Gad! Tell James to keep his bloody fan club in line! They're turning on us!" Sirius gasped, making a great show of testing if he still had hearing in the victim ear.

"I thought you'd be rather used to women throwing themselves at you, Sirius," Marissa replied with a laugh.

"I have been known to make women scream, care to try the more conventional method?" Sirius returned suggestively.

"All right you two, now that you've both taken a shot at each other, let's go congratulate James," Remus replied, stepping in between them.

"Maybe then you can stop making such a spectacle of yourself," Lily said disapprovingly, coming up behind them.

"Oh, Lily! Did you want a button?" Marissa asked, the picture of innocent inquiry.

Lily snorted and stomped off, not wanting to dignify that with a response. Sirius turned to watch her go, did a double take, and looked back at Marissa's loudly jangling button-filled scarves.

"How, Marissa Fletcher, did you plant those buttons on her? They weren't there a minute ago! And you couldn't have posibbly gone for your wand!" Sirius cried in surprise and respect.

Marissa laughed, "Haven't you learned yet, Sirius? A magician always has something up her sleeve, and it isn't always necessarily her wand."

* * *

Needless to say, there was a great party in the Gryffindor Common Room that night. That day really, because the match hadn't ended that late. Of course, the Marauders were at the helm. However, there was the general call for what the purebloods almost universally found fascinating: Marissa's magicless magic tricks. Lizzie and Frank had even invented what they so affectionately dubbed the "Squib Square" that kept her from doing magic as long as she stood on it. 

This party, the trick was juggling. Marissa had begun juggling three of the apples "nicked" from the kitchens, then Peter began tossing extra apples into the mix one at a time. By the time he was up to six, they had drawn a crowd. And that, of course, drew James Potter.

"Hallo, Riss," James said, coming up behind her, almost as if he was hoping to startle her into dropping them.

Marissa, however, was not so easily distracted. "Hello James," she said calmly, though it was clear from her voice that she had not broken concentration as Peter tossed the seventh apple into the jumble.

"You know, for all your supposed House spirit today, I can't help but wander if your real object wasn't something entirely different," he said, eying her closely.

"Like what, pray tell?" Marissa asked perfunctionally.

James grabbed a pineapple and, placing a staying hand on Peter, tossed it into the jumble instead. For a second, it looked as if Marissa would faulter, but she adjusted and kept juggling. The crowd cheered spontaneously. Marissa flashed them a distracted smile. "Oh, I don't know, you weren't trying to work against me, now were you?" The girls in the Club gasped in astonishment. James shot them one of his rogue grins to reassure them.

"James, need I remind you that I am the one who spotted the Snitch? And alerted you?" Marissa said as Peter through yet another apple into the fray. It proved the one too many. They all went tumbling down. There was a groan of disappointment from the crowd, then a cheer for the job well done. Marissa bowed.

"Then were you trying to tell me something?" James pressed.

"James," Marissa said, bending to pick up some of the fruit, "When was the last time you listened to me when I tried to talk to you?" She pushed the pineapple at him and walked away.

"That was kind of my point!" James called after her. After a moment, he shrugged and began to juggle (off the Squib Square) using magic.

Marissa made her way over to where Remus was sitting on a semi-deserted couch, as sparsely populated as any part of the Common Room could be tonight. She plopped down next to him. "After that show, anybody in this room would want to talk to you, why me?" Remus asked.

Marissa raised her eyebrows as if the answer should have been obvious. "They do impress easy, don't they?" Marissa said, looking back over at the crowd in the center of which James (off of the Squib Square) was juggling about ten items with the aid of what was probably several charms used together. "All smoke and mirrors, and they love it. Muggles too. Muggles more, really," she said sounding almost wistful. James stepped onto the Squib Square still juggling, and all of the fruit immediately went flying. A roar went up from the crowd, but after a moment it began to disperse. "What a magician really needs to find is someone who'll be there when all the illusions wear off."

Remus just looked at her for a long moment, "If this is about the Star Wars thing..."

Marissa laughed as if he should have known better. "It's one of the sweetest things that anyone's ever done for me, Remus, and it means the world to me but - "

"Because," Remus interrupted her suddenly, "The real reason...the real reason that I did it was...well, I know it's a couple of years too late, but I feel terrible about they way we treated you after Malfoy..." Marissa looked away, not in dismissal of him, but as if she could dismiss the incident by turning away from it. "Sure, we defended you, but then none of us wanted to talk about. We all went off to think our private thoughts and didn't want to discuss it with anyone, even and especially you. After the charges were dismissed, we just kind of tried to forget it had ever happened. I'm just...I'm sorry that we left you to deal with this on your own."

Marissa looked back at him, curiosity overpowering the shadow of the old pain in her eyes, "You really don't remember, do you?" she said more than asked.

"What?" Remus said in surprise.

"When you took me up to the Hospital Wing," Marissa said as if expecting his memory to jar at any moment. "You may have sat there thinking your own thoughts, but you sat there with me the whole time. You didn't leave my side for a minute. You just were there with me. That's all I ever wanted from you. You let me know that it wouldn't change our friendship, that Malfoy hadn't robbed me of everything. I was still the girl you knew. And almost...almost that everything would be okay. Don't ever think you didn't do enough."

"Riss..." Remus tried to find something to say, but couldn't find any words and fell silent.

Marissa smiled, "Let's not talk about that. Why don't you just tell me I'm positively batty like everyone else around here?" she said in her usual bubbly tone of voice.

Remus took a moment longer to adjust to the change of mood, "Well, I really thought that went without saying even before today," he said playfully. "You really care more for Lily and James's eventual happiness that for your own, don't you?"

"What do you mean, Remus?"

"I mean, all this, you really go through a lot to make James acceptable to Lily and, well, I just mean that you must really love them to want them to be happy this much," Remus said in a slightly muted voice.

"I suppose you could say that," Marissa replied. Remus couldn't help but feel inwardly deflated. He had almost hoped that...hoped what he didn't even know. Hoped that maybe Marissa...but no, with her it was always James, even if she was giving him to Lily. Like Sirius giving Lily to James.

"But this is still a far too serious conversation for the occassion," Marissa chirped, "Truly, you have no sense of time and place, Remus."

"I suppose I'll have to work on that."

"While you're at it, work on being more batty sometime."

"I think you're crazy enough for both of us, Riss. Probably crazy enough for our entire House if push comes to shove."

©KatyMulvaney9-9-2004


	11. Unwanted Help

**Disclaimer:** You know what, forget telling you that I don't own it. I'm going to tell you that I do and see what happens. I mean, really, what is anybody gonna do? I don't know but I think I might just be bored and curious enough to find out so: I OWN HARRY POTTER! JK ROWLING STOLE HIM FROM ME! Hm...no lightning strike...no deluge of lawyers...what do you know, no one can stop me! Muhahaha! Did anyone see that coming? Nothing happens. Huh. One question though, why are those men in white uniforms at the door?

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**Author's Note:** If you're reading this story, please let me know so that I'll actually update the chapters on this site in the future. You don't have to leave a long review, just let me know that someone's reading it here so that I'll bother posting here as well as at Schnoogle in the future. Thanks.

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**Chapter Eleven  
Unwanted Help**

Mr. and Mrs. Potter were stunned. There was no other way to put it. Neither knew quite what to do or say, so they sat there perfectly still and silent. They did not glance at each other or Severus Snape but stared straight ahead. Severus wished they would do something to acknowledge that they had heard the speech he had just given. He had put a great deal of thought into both the content and the wording, knowing that this would be the hardest and most delicate conversation of his life.

The problem was that, in his mind, this was a conversation tailor-made for his customary brusqueness. He did not like the offer he was making them and did not want to utter unneccessary words about it. His actions would speak for him, but the Potters loved superfluous words. Severus's reasons were simple and so obvious that their little brat could have understood them if he were present. Furthermore, his reasons were best left unanalyzed and undisturbed by needless chatter. Unfortunately, neither Potter was likely to see that.

So they would talk. And it would get ugly. And this situation would be even more uncomfortable. Damn you, Potter.

"As much as I try to make myself see the larger picture," Potter said at last, more as if he were talking to himself rather than either of them in the room. Severus thought this practice of Potter's highly rude. "The only thing that I can feel is insulted." Lily looked at him as if in warning, but Potter was not looking at his wife. Not that he would have been likely to heed it. "Insulted that we're being asked to suspect one of our best friends."

"They'll be insulted as well," Lily said thoughtfully, staring at a small painting on the opposite wall or, rather, at some point hundreds of miles beyond it. "No matter whom we choose now. If only Petunia had been willing...he never would have known to look for her."

"Oh damn who'll be insulted, Evans!" Severus snapped, causing Lily to jump and Potter to jump to his feet as if to leap at him. He was always easy to provoke, that one. "Oh sit down, Potter! And this isn't a popularity contest like choosing your best man and maid of honor. This is about your lives and your son's life! For Merlin's sake, will you not take that seriously? And you know why he's after you, don't you? For the sake of all the wizarding world, will you not protect your son?" he said through clenched teeth. Why were they being so stupid? Why could they not see the sense of this plan?

"We trust our friends," Potter replied resolutely.

"You have a traitor in your midst," Severus returned coldly.

"The traitor isn't Sirius," Potter said stubbornly.

"Merlin!" Severus finally exclaimed, leaping to his feet much like Potter had a moment ago. "Is there no end to your arrogant stupidity? To your recklessness? Your irresponsibility? Would that Marissa hadn't died!"

"_What the hell do you mean by that?_" came a great shout. It took the two men a moment to realize that it was Lily who had yelled, rising instantly to her feet and looking as tense and ready for a fight as the two men beside her. For a split second, Severus could see nothing more than what a formiddable pair these two made. What kind of warrior must their child be destined to be? The boy who could defeat the Dark Lord?

Then the moment passed, and Severus registered her question. At the same moment he opened his mouth to speak, the "great warrior" registered his mother's yell and opened his mouth to bellow. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," she said coldly, marching stiffly out of the room in the direction of the piteous cries.

When the door closed behind her, the two adversaries stared at each other, the old hatred alive in both their eyes. "Care to answer Lily's question?" Potter said stiffly into the silence in a tone he no doubt thought very intimidating. Don't flatter yourself, Potter. It's your son that impresses me, if he can defeat the Dark Lord. Not you. Never you.

"I won't defend again that it's not my fault, Potter, if that's what you're waiting for," Severus spat at him.

"Believe what you want," Potter spat back disbelievingly.

"Why don't you believe the truth?" Severus returned, changing the subject before one or both of them exploded from a powerful combination of rage and grief. "I warned Marissa back then and she was willing to listen, even if she was as trusting as you about your precious _Marauders._ Apparently she never told you before she - " Potter knocked something off the table, cutting him off before he could say it. For once in his life, Severus was glad of something that Potter had done. He didn't want to say it any more than Potter wanted to hear the words. "I'll tell you what I told her even though you don't have half her brain. Don't trust me because I was Death Eater, that's fine; but believe me _because_ I've seen the Dark Lord's secret councils that someone near you is a spy!"

"Damn it, I know that!" Potter shouted, setting off the brat again just when Lily had managed to quiet him. "Why do you think we move every week? For our health?"

"Then protect yourself if you know the danger," Severus said tensely. "Don't take any risks. Don't deliver yourself to someone who may betray you. Make the betrayor of your enemy your Secret Keeper."

"The traitor isn't Sirius. I refuse to even consider the thought," Potter said doggedly though from the look on his face he was not unaffected by Severus's speech or his offer.

"A murderer," Severus muttered, "That is whom you would trust with your life."

An instant later, Severus knew that it was a colossal mistake. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU HORRIBLE LITTLE SLITHERING SNAKE!"

As Harry began to wail even louder, Severus spun on his heel and walked out of the house, slamming the door of the little cottage in Godric's Hollow behind him. This time it's not just your little friends that you're risking, Potter. It's the entire world. And even now you won't see reason. Damn you, Potter. Damn you to hell.

* * *

The Hogsmeade weekend was inordinantly welcome.

The furor of the Quidditch match's bizarre decorations or "The Distractions" as everyone had taken to calling them still had not died down two weeks later. Though most were infinitely amused by Marissa Fletcher and the Club's antics, the Ravenclaws were highly unappreciative and the Slytherins downright vindictive. Nevermind that The Distractions had disappeared at the start of the game and Gryffindor was undisputably the stronger team, both Houses continually blamed the loss (of the game for Ravenclaw and the Quidditch Cup for the Slytherins) on Marissa Fletcher's over the top cheerleading campaign.

James was also taking a great deal of heat about his quite literally Big Head. At first, observing him firsthand, Remus thought that Marissa's ploy might have done James some good after all. Then as the taunts went on and on, James started retaliating by hexing anyone who so much as mentioned the Quidditch Match. You would think that, with everyone in the castle growing slowly but steadily more afraid of him with every duel or, worse, the ungentlemanly surprise attacks, the jeers would taper off. That was not, however, to be the way of things.

The O.W.L. frenzy, for its part, was worse than ever. The tests were looming ahead of them now and several of the Fifth and Seventh years were planning on staying behind to use the less crowded than usual library. Most, however, were positively gleeful for this excuse to get out of the castle. Even most of the teachers were so frazzled they encouraged the idea.

What surprised almost everyone was the amount of purebloods who signed up to go to Rhynie cinema. The prevailing theory was that they wanted to escape the wizarding world completely. This also meant that the prefects and Heads would be hard pressed to keep the Muggles hanging about the cinema from noticing something was up. Marissa was also worried about getting enough tickets to the ridiculously popular show.

She shouldn't have worried. Professor Dumbledore knew enough about the Star Wars phenomenon that he ordered tickets ahead of time based on the sign-up sheet. It definitely raised Professor Dumbledore in Marissa's estimation that he bothered to know things like this about the Muggle world. Even some Muggleborns cut ties with the world of their birth once they grew up.

So it was that the procession down to the town from the castle continued on with the Head Students, two prefects, and Lily Evans leading the group. After awhile, Lizzie and Gideon dropped back to patrol the rear. "Just don't get too far behind the rest of us!" Marissa called back at them.

"I thought we weren't supposed to act like a honeymooning couple anymore?" was Lizzie's parting shot, though she waved cheerfully at them to take the sting out of her retort. She needn't have worried, Marissa just laughed.

Lily pouted, "Oh this is going to be no fun. We've had so much fun teasing Gideon about Muggle customs. You've got Remus all immune to it by now though."

"Sorry, Lils, but it's just too much fun teasing all those prefects at the meetings. It's the only thing that gets me through them anymore truth be told: Lizzie and me going back and forth with the suckers," Marissa laughed.

Remus clutched his heart in mock dismay. "You wound me, Riss!"

"Just as well you go lick your wounds, I want to talk to Riss for a minute," Lily said, taking Marissa's arm and pulling her a little way beyond Remus.

"Fine! Abandon me!" he called back from behind them. "See if I care!"

"Don't be petulant, Remus, we just want some girltalk for awhile," Marissa turned to reply. Then she turned back to Lily, "Spill."

"How do you do it, Riss?" Lily sighed, looking down at the ground. "How did you pry your way into their precious little circle?"

"The Marauders?" Marissa asked.

"Yes, and please don't say it was stunts like that nightmare-creating display that you pulled at the game," Lily said with a surprising waver in her voice. "Because I'm not prepared to do that."

"Oh Lils!" Marissa cried in dismay. "You know the Marauders love you!"

"No I don't! Because all they ever say about me is that I should be with James, because he's so crazy in love with me!" Lily exclaimed. "First of all, please, he's just obsessed with what he can't have. Why else would he have failed to notice his infatuation with me until I was with Sirius? Ever since it's like I'm not their friend anymore. They never talk to me, never seek me out, and as much as you complain they don't take you into their counsels, you know a lot more than I do! You didn't tell me about the Cloak any more than they told you."

"I probably should have, Lils, I'm sorry," Marissa said, staring down at the ground.

"Oh, Riss, I'm not concerned about whether or not I have your friendship, it's just theirs," Lily sighed. "I miss them. We used to be such friends, and I'll even admit it: with James most of all. But why can't the rest of them still be my friends even if the Big Headed one can't?"

"With the Big Headed one, it's entirely your choice, Lils," Marissa pointed out gently. "As for the rest, what we have here is a textbook example of why it just doesn't work to think of the Marauders as individual people."

"Riss, I'm bearing my soul here, can you at least be serious?" Lily complained.

"Actually, I highly doubt that you want me to be Sirius," Marissa smirked at her briefly. "Seriously though," she continued with a forgivable twinkle in her eyes, "You really can't separate the four of them. Technically, they are four separate persons named James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin, but for all intents and purposes (at least in social situations) they are the Marauders. They're just like one person. You can't just like one side of person and expect to have a great friendship. You have to take the good with the bad with anyone. And the Marauders are not individuals, they're like a single person. You have to take the good with the bad."

Lily was silent for a few minutes. "So I do have to go out with Potter to be their friend?" she sighed resignedly. "I guess I've just lost three great friends then."

"First of all, no, you don't have to go out with James. Secondly," Marissa corrected calmly, "There's your problem right there. You can't be friends with just three of them. If you want Sirius, Remus, and Peter for friends, you have to learn to be at least cordial with James. You don't have to fall in love with him, you don't even have to like him, but you do have to figure out a way to be in the same room with him on a regular basis."

"And just how do you suggest I go about that?" Lily asked.

"Well, apologizing would be a good start," Marissa said seriously, looking at Lily warily.

"Apologize!" Lily exploded.

"Yes, for the whole mess with Dennis and for being so rude to him all the time," Marissa continued calmly.

"No bloody way," Lily said furiously. "Not to mention that fact that even if I was willing to say it, which I no longer am, Potter has made it increasingly clear that he does not want to hear it."

"Try again," Marissa replied unflappably.

"Just try again, that's all you're going to say?" Lily demanded.

"Pretty much," she replied with a quirky smile. "If you want to re-befriend the Marauders, try again."

Lily grunted, then turned and called to Remus, "All right you can come back now."

"That's okay," Remus called back in a mock-petulant voice. "I'm talking to Peter now. _He_ wants me."

"Why don't you both come up here?" Marissa called back in a conciliatory tone. "We've only got about ten more minutes until we hit Rhynie."

* * *

It was, put bluntly, madness. People were dressed in ways that old biddies were hissing were "just not natural," everyone was screaming things out in an odd and inexplicable jargon, and waving odd sticks about heedless of who might be watching, and that's not even mentioning the antics of the thirty wizards who had descended on the theatre. The Star Wars fans almost, _almost_, made the James Potter Fan Club look benign. Diehards were everywhere, confirming every pureblood prejudice about the daftness of Muggles with every swing of strange "lightsabers" they had fashioned for themselves for the occassion. Apparently, it was a big day for Star Wars.

Marissa, of course, was in her element. Announcing that she had thirty "Star Wars virgins" in tow secured for the Hogwarts students prime seating in the surprisingly crowded theatre. _Hasn't the movie been playing for some time now?_ she asked herself briefly. Apparently there was no underestimating a fad in the Muggle world.

Marissa and Professor Perkins had both done their best to explain films to the numerous purebloods who had condescended to go. However, when the opening lines of the film blared onto the screen, it became quite clear that the purebloods had not been expecting anything more than the "moving pictures" that they had experienced. The burst of sound as the words began to scroll across the screen produced exclamations of surprise from them all. There had been numerous murmurs among the purebloods of "What's so exciting about moving pictures that can't talk back?"

Marissa leaned over to Lily, "I think they're starting to get it," as they cheered the opening scene of the ship zooming into view. ("How did they do that? Make something that's not real?" "They're really going to act out the story? Like that theatre thing Binns told us about that didn't catch on in the wizarding world?" "Were you actually listening to Binns?" "SHUT UP! WE'RE TRYING TO WATCH!")

Before Marissa and Lily could even share conspiratorial glances, Remus had grabbed Marissa's arm from the other side and was hissing at her, "I think we came to the wrong one!"

"What?" Marissa cried, by no means mildly concerned. "What do you mean?"

"That scroll-writing thingie, it said this was Star Wars Episode _four!_" Remus hissed at her. "What happened to one, two and three? Look, I have no idea what's going on!"

Marissa actually laughed aloud. The other fans in the theatre were most inappreciative as the Hogwarts babble had finally begun to subside. "You're not supposed to at first. Just watch and pay attention and you'll get it," she whispered in a highly amused and relieved voice.

"But what about the first three?" Remus complained.

"They're not out yet," Marissa said, riveting her eyes to the screen pointedly.

Remus could not be so easily deterred. "Why? Do muggles have some weird numbering thing?"

Marissa shot him an annoyed glance, "You of all the purebloods here, Remus!" she admonished, her tone not quite angry or mocking. "We're not all daft, for one thing. For another, don't say words like 'muggles' here, for another. And no, we don't number differently. Honestly!" She shook her head. "Now can I watch the movie, please?"

The explosion was also enormously popular, though the twin suns raised several eyebrows. Gideon Prewett began to mutter in what he obviously thought a sufficiently muted voice that muggles obviously had no conception of physics. Lizzie quieted him with a quelling look to at least whisper if he was going to criticize in this crowd.

Spilling blinking out into the sunlight, the chattering students were all very enthusiastic about the muggle cinema and possessing considerably more respect for the nonwizarding world.

Remus, Peter, Lily, and Marissa spent the walk about quoting scenes back and forth, Lily and Marissa taking turns playing Princess Leia. Peter proved the surest at remembering the lines, choosing to play Obi-Wan and Luke. Remus, trying and failing to sound like Harrison Ford as he recited the lines, kept slipping and calling him "Wormtail" instead of "Kid."

Eventually, the girls pulled a bit ahead, chattering about Leia's bizarre hairdos and whether or not they would look good with Lily's dark red locks. This gave way to Marissa recounting her lack of success at recreating them from Gus's descriptions. At that point, the boys hung back gratefully. "Hey, Kid?" Remus said in his brave but ultimately unsuccessful imitation, "Do you think..." Peter followed his gaze and saw that it was looking consideringly at Marissa, "Do you think a princess and a guy like me..?"

"No," Peter said just as quickly as Luke Skywalker had in the movie they had just seen.

"Easy, Luke, I actually meant - " Remus said in his own voice.

"I know what you meant," Peter cut him off. "No." He turned to look Remus in the eye. "Riss is James's. More than Lily ever will be, in truth. She'll find somebody to love who loves her back someday, but not another Marauder. It'd be like a substitute James. He's the one she bends her life over backwards to make happy, even if it means she won't get to be with him herself. He's the one she founded a fan club in honor of. He's the one whose face she painted on the clouds. When she was looking the Marauders up and down, she picked James. And she won't ever be able to be with any of us now."

Remus let out a long sigh. He didn't look precisely crushed, but rather longing. Almost lost. He had just lost something he hadn't dared to admit that how much he wanted yet. Peter shook himself to dispel the guilt he felt at discouraging Remus. It wasn't like he had changed much for long. He wasn't ready quite yet. He just needed a little bit longer to get used to the idea of Marissa and one of his best friends before he had to deal with it day in and day out. Just a little longer. And that was all it would be. It wasn't as if Remus could ever have been the one to make the first move anyway. Marissa had to do that, and Peter hadn't discouraged her after all. Though, if Peter was honest with himself, he knew that Remus might cool off their relationship and put off the inevitable even longer.

Try as he might, Peter just couldn't make himself regret that happening.

Han and Leia. They were right, of course. Luke and Leia, he knew, would never be in this world or even in the galaxy far, far away. That wasn't how the universe worked. Peter was never on the receiving end of the kind of love that was worth fighting for. Would the others have become animagi for him? He liked to think so, but sometimes he almost doubted it. Marissa didn't love him. She did love Remus. She did love James even if it wasn't in the form that most people thought. She and Sirius were such close friends it almost rivaled her attachments to the other two boys. But what did she share with Peter?

He was more Lily's friend. Not that he could have loved her even if she wasn't so obviously the perfect woman for James. That was the real problem, he supposed. He had friends. Great friends. Life-altering friends. But they were bound closer to each other than they were to the smaller boy who worshipped and envied them their easy popularity and brilliance. They were friends like Han and Chewbacca. He would always be the slightly lesser outsider like Luke was in this first movie. Different, respected and intelligent and listened to, but ultimately different from the rest of them. Han and Chewie. Han and Leia.

But Luke and whom?

* * *

"Finally!" Lily sighed, groaning dramatically and gesturing to her feet. They troupe had made it's way slowly back to Hogsmeade and diverged this way and that from main street. The four new Star Wars fans were making their way up to Three Broomsticks where (though no one had discussed it with Lily directly) they were meeting James and Sirius, "I need a cold drink, it's hot walking out here."

Lily pushed open the door and immediately all three of them were hit was buckets of cold water. Lily's eyes closed for a moment as if in denial of the wet sensation that had just hit her. Remus and Peter just looked about for James and Sirius as Marissa rang out her hair. Sure enough, Padfoot and Prongs jumped out a moment later, looking slightly surprised to see that it was their friends that they had drenched. Madam Rosemerta, the newlywed waitress who had dropped out of Hogwarts a few years ago to help her ailing father run the tavern, immediately descended on the pair and proceeded to give them a tonguelashing.

James, for one, looked far more concern with Lily's reaction. There was an almost painful expression on her face as she smiled tightly, "Nice trick, Potter. Would you favor us with a drying charm by any chance?"

"You want me to?" James asked in surprise.

"Well, you are the only one with your wand already out, are you capable of it, Potter?" Lily asked, trying to sound less than antagonisitic.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," James said, abruptly remembering that he was mad at Lily his voice grew hard and distant. Their friends suppressed a sigh.

"All I care about at the moment is a drying charm, Potter," Lily said in a voice that was, like James's, closer to the one she usually used to address him.

"Look, Lily, if we'd known it was you guys we wouldn't have drenched you," Sirius said quickly before they could start fighting in earnest.

"You mean you were just going to do that to random people for no reason whatsoever?" Lily cried in surprised indignation. Then the fire receded slowly from her eyes and she forced her accusing gaze away from James Potter. She took out her own wand and dried herself off, then walked to a table and sat down without another word to any of them.

Sirius quickly dried the other three and they all walked over to join her. James stood perfectly still for several seconds after they had all gone. Then he turned and walked out the door and drowned his frustration in Zonko's products.

* * *

However, Lily apparently decided that she had been too harsh, or at least that she wanted to be friends with the Marauders more than she wanted to comfortably continue hating James. After all, she knew that she mostly did now because it was easier, and since when did Evanses take the easy way out?

So that Monday, Lily set a new precedent at Hogwarts: she pursued James. They were quite used to the other way around of course, but had the general population been aware they would have been quite disturbed by the alteration of the rational universe.

Lily chased James down and tried to talk to him. She finally managed to catch him in a little used corridor that he had tried to escape down when he noticed her following him. That was another new precedent: James Potter was running from Lily Evans.

"James, please listen because this is the absolute last time that I will attempt to apologize," Lily said sounding far more annoyed than apologetic. James turned to her at last, looking at her in an inscrutable way. "Look, I am sorry about the impression you got. I never meant you to. I never dreamed that we were talking about...about sex when we had that discussion at the train station and well, I'm sorry about all the trouble it caused you."

"Trouble?" James said in a way that Lily didn't quite like.

She immediately took three steps back from admitting that his feelings for her were genuine. Telling Marissa that they probably were was one thing, Potter was not to know she knew that. "Whatever revenge it is you exacted on Wemmick," Lily clarified hastily. "And McGonagall being on your case about it."

"That's the trouble you think that it caused me?" James asked, looking at her almost curiously.

"Well, you've got to admit that she has been rather going after you in class and I know that you really prefer a subject like Charms to Transfiguration - " Lily said, looking down at her feet instead of at Potter, but stopping when she realized that he had moved closer during her response.

"Why do you care what trouble she gives me, Lily?" he asked in a voice that suddenly sounded deeper and more pleasant than before. "I thought you hated me, why do you suddenly care how I feel about things?" Lily was speechless, stuck now staring up at him as he continued, "Why do you hold yourself accountable to me _now_ when you've so often told me that I have no right to..," he moved a little closer until his face was right up in hers, "Be a part of your life."

"Stop it, James," she said, wanting to back away but feeling trapped by his looming presence.

"James?" he said with a raise of his eyebrows. "It's been a long time since you called me that, Lily. I've missed the sound of it on your lips."

"Stop it, Potter," she said more fiercely, taking a step back, but finding herself against a wall now and unable to slink further away.

James smiled, no, smirked. "Lily, you're so obvious. You try so hard to loathe me, to tell yourself that you don't care about me, but in the end, you can't keep it from showing. You care when something you do hurts me, you care when I'm feeling betrayed, and you still think of me as James in your mind." Lily was mutely shaking her head during this speech.

When Potter bent down and tried to kiss her she found her voice. And her strength. "Get OFF me, _Potter!_" she spat, shoving against him almost ineffectively but involuntary magic propelling him across the corridor and slamming him into the opposite wall. Lily's eyes were flashing with anger, "I can't believe that I apologized to you! For something that I didn't even do! For something that in your unbelievable arrogance you still have the gall to count against me! And then you turn my apology, in your utter conceit, into some kind of subconscious betrayal of my feelings for you? You disgust me."

"So you do have feelings for me?" James said, utterly irrepresible.

"You really are hopeless, Potter," Lily said contemptuously. It was not annoyance, frustration or even loathing but pure contempt. And that, at last, gave Potter enough sense to be quiet for the moment.

Then the moment passed. "Again, you're so obvious, _Evans,_" he smirked. "Whenever you're ready to stop lying to yourself, I'll be here."

"And rotting in your grave before I change my mind about you," Lily shouted back far more loudly than necessary. She spun on her heel and walked away.

"But your heart is already on my side!" James called after her.

"Get a bloody _life,_ Potter!" Lily cried in disgust as she fell out of sight down another corridor.

* * *

"That is the absolute last time I take your advice!" Lily practically shrieked the instant that she entered their room. She irately snapped aside the curtains Marissa had drawn around her bed to keep anything from distracting her from studying.

Sighing and closing her potions book, Marissa looked up at Lily slightly annoyed herself. "What'd he do now?" she said in a bored tone.

"Don't take that tone with me! You probably knew exactly what he was planning to do, well I can tell you your little machinations backfired!" she screamed, pacing the room and looking distinctly as if she wanted to throw something.

"Obviously, considering I was hoping - "

"That I'd go weak at the knees when that arrogant, pompuous little prick tried to _kiss_ me when I apologized!" Lily cut in. "Well not likely, I can tell you. The conceited little twat really thinks that because I apologized I have deep, repressed feelings for him!"

"Okay, first of all, he definitely did not have my blessing to try to snog you - "

"And that's as it bloody well should be! Can you believe his arrogance? You know, I truly thought that however large and all-encompassing it appears to be there might be some end to his ego. But no, it's officially infinite," Lily ranted further.

"And secondly - "

"You know, Riss, I just don't want to hear it right now," Lily said, flopping down on her bed.

"All right," Riss said, laying on her stomache and propping up her head to face her friend. "I take it you probably don't want to study either. Do you want Mr. Tibbles?"

"Yes," Lily said in a pouty voice.

"Okay, _accio_," Marissa said and Mr. Tibbles, the stuffed turtle Lily had had since the age of three, came zooming toward Marissa. As it went past, Lily snatched it out of the air with instincts to rival James's and immediately hugged it to her chest.

"You going to be okay?" Marissa asked concernedly.

"Eventually," Lily said. "If I never have to see James Potter's big head again."

"Well, I suppose two years isn't too long to wait for happiness. Personally, I'll be perfectly content once O.W.L.s are over," Marissa said with a slight smile.

Lily groaned and buried her face in her pillow. "I don't want to think about this anymore. Say something, you're good at distracting people from their problems."

"Juggling, gossip, or the new book that Severus is making me read?"

"What?" Lily cried, sounding actually distracted. "Is my hearing distorted from this pillow or did you just say Severus?"

"What do you want me to call him, Snivellus?" Marissa shot back. "He's my potions partner. He says he insists that I bone up so that I can stop dragging him down. So I'm reading this horrible old tome he gave me and he's reading _Brains, Bones, and Gum: Potion-making Ingredients from the Muggle World and How They Interact With Magical Ones._"

"But Severus?"

"Calling someone 'Snivellus' is cruel and insensitive," Marissa said staunchly.

"So is he," Lily replied.

"Does that mean we get to be rude to him whenever we want? Hex him in the halls just because we feel like it? Isn't that precisely what you get on the boys about?" Marissa countered.

"At least call him Snape," Lily temporized.

"Only if you admit that I'm right," Marissa bargained.

"About what?"

"Everything."

"Since when do you need outside confirmation of that?"

* * *

There was no doubt that it was back to full out war between Lily Evans and James Potter. He was back to chasing and she was back to being unable to bear the sight of him. Their increasingly heated rivalry was swallowed, however, in the steadily escalating O.W.L. frenzy.

Two weeks to O.W.L.s and even James and Sirius were studying.

One week to O.W.L.s and Hogwarts was completely out of coffee.


	12. The Things You Know

**Disclaimer:** I think JK Rowling must be a terribly insecure person to demand that we perform these bows to her genius. Not that I resent it. Her brilliance is undoubted and her gift to readers everywhere undeniable. Merely as an interesting psychological case I find it interesting that she insists on this. Do you think she needs therapy? Well, I'm not equiped to give her that, but until then I can placate her: JK Rowling should rule the world. She rules the Harry Potter Universe which is quickly taking over the world. All hail JK!

* * *

**Chapter Twelve  
The Things You Know**

Weddings are stressful. So is adoption. It is most heartily recommended that mortal man not attempt both at the same time. It is further heartily recommended that a foolish man who makes this mistake for the dubious reason of trule love pay very close attention what envelope he is putting something into. This was James Potter's mistake.

"James, we got the invitation," Lily caroled excitedly, hurrying over to him bearing an envelope.

"I really think that we know when it is, Lils," James replied with a laugh.

"And you're assuming that anyone else would have you," Lily rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, let me be excited about this. It only happens once..."

"That's assuming I'm only planning on marrying once," James teased.

"Why you!" Lily said, landing a playful blow on his arm. She took out a fancy letter-opener that had been one of their first gifts from her Muggle guests. She pulled out a fancy card and smiled at him before reading. Despite himself, James smiled back. He would put up with any amount of wedding nonsense to be able to say to the world that she was really his. To prove it, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

Lily, however, did not respond. She looked confusedly back at the envelope, then at the card, an adorable but worrying furrow in her brow. "James," she said slowly, "Did I give you the invitation template and that card to Mundungus on the same day?"

"What?" James said, totally taken aback.

"Did I give them to you on the same day last week?" Lily asked, looking up at him intensely and slightly accusing.

Having no idea what he could have possibly done now, James's hand flew up into his hair as he said carefully, "I think so. I dunno. It was a week ago."

"James, did you pay careful attention to -"

Just then the fireplace glowed green. James was quite glad of the interruption for that tone was Lily's dangerous one. It meant a fight was coming unless he treaded _very_ carefully. The next moment, Sirius's head had appeared in the fireplace. Lily also separated herself from James, still staring at the invitation. Except that it was more like glaring now. And she looked up to glare at him from time to time.

"Hey, I didn't know you cared," Sirius said, obviously suppressing laughter only with great difficulty.

"What do you mean, Padfoot?" James asked in surprise.

"Did you get the wedding invitations today, Sirius?" Lily asked sharply.

Sirius threw his head back and laughed, "No, but I did get a very generous offer from the two of you to adopt me. I warn you, I'm not totally potty-trained yet."

"No!" Lily cried, dropping to the hearth. "Please, please, Sirius tell me you're not - well, serious!"

"You mean, you don't want to be my new Mommy?" Sirius cried in mock-hurt.

"No!" Lily cried again, burying her face in her hands.

"What's going on?" James demanded, disliking being out of the loop.

Lily's head snapped up, her eyes flashing at him. "I'll tell you what's going on. What's going on is that thanks to my idiot husband-to-be we just sent a card to _three hundred people_ telling them that we're planning on ADOPTING THEM!"

James's eyes went wide in horror. However, being James, he couldn't help but see the humor in the situation. "James, how many jobs do you have concerning this wedding?" Lily demanded furiously. "How could you be so careless? What are we going to say to these people? What are they going to think? Oh dear Merlin!" Just when she was beginning to get up a good rant, she gasped in renewed dismay and knelt down to face Sirius, "It doesn't say anything about Marissa, does it?"

"Not by name, no," Sirius replied, still sounding terribly amused.

"Oh no!" Lily moaned, reading the card in her hand. "We just sent a card to three hundred people telling them that they're sister died! We work at the Ministry! They may think we knew something! We'll start a panic!" In one of her alarming mood shifts, Lily went from horrified to furious as she rounded on James. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME YOU IDIOT!" she shouted, beating James with blows by no means fake now. "How could you be so careless, so stupid, so, so, YOU!"

"Lily! Lily, easy! I didn't do it on purpose!" James shouted back, ducking. "And besides, you said yourself that you were the one who gave them both to me on the same day."

Lily grew quite still in her rage. "You're right," she said in a dangerously calm, reasonable voice. "I should have known you were totally incompetent and so self-absorbed as to not have the brains to notice what envelope you put something in. You're right, it's my fault. I know your limitations and yet I continue to think you have the same capabilities of any normal person."

"Lily - "

"No, James, it's totally my fault. You're right," Lily said, glint of anger back in her eyes. "Why do I ever trust you with anything?"

"I'm not incompetent, Lily," James protested.

"No?" she said sweetly. Then acidly, "Then why can't you tell a bloody wedding invitation from a card to Mundungus?" She turned to the fireplace, "Sirius, I think you should go."

"Are you kidding, Lils? If I left every time you and James had a fight, I'd never see you guys anymore," Sirius said sounding far too amused. "You've been fighting like this since fourth year. Before and after you got together. It's one of those things you come to depend on in life."

"Glad we're here for your entertainment, Padfoot," James replied sardonically.

"Hush you!" Lily said, jabbing an accusing finger in his face. "This is your fault. How could you be so careless? Why do you always do this to me James? Why can't you get over being an insensitive prat? Just when I think I might have broken you of it, you do something like _this!_"

"Lily, be reasonable, this was a simple mistake," James coaxed.

"That embarrassed us in front of _three hundred_ people! Freaked out the Muggle guests and terrified the wizard ones! Why did I ever agree to marry such an insensitive, thoughtless, self-aborsbed..."

* * *

"Arrogant, bigheaded, pathetic little toerag!" Lily was screaming at James standing on Hogsmeade Station with half the school streaming past them and the rest looking bemusedly through the windows. The occasional Evans-Potter blow out had become a way of life. Most didn't even shake their heads at it anymore.

"You know what they say, Evans, there's a thin line between love and hate, and from the sound of your diatribe, you must love me very much," James said irrepressibly.

"Okay that's it," Marissa said, sliding into the danger zone between them when she saw that Lily was about to blow. "James, you are to get on the train right now and if I have to I will bewitch you so that it becomes physically impossible for you to leave the south end of the train. Lily, the same goes for you in the north end of the train. Now, if you attempt to have it out across the barrier between the two sides, I really won't care because I'm immuring myself in the Prefect's Compartment. Coming, Remus?"

Remus immediately followed her as she hurried off. "Can we come?" Sirius and Peter chorused, casting wary looks at the endlessly bickering pair.

Marissa waved her wand at her two friends. "Don't worry, they can't yell at each other across two cars, and there are two in the center of the train that I prevented either of them from entering."

"Bless you, Riss," Sirius said, holding his head dramatically. Seeing his brother boarding the train, Sirius added under his breath, "You don't think you could cast a charm on Regulus to banish him to say...Antartica, do you?"

"You going to be all right this summer, Sirius?" James asked in an uncharacteristically serious voice as he hurried up behind their group. "Really?"

"What, you mean because Regulus has joined forces with Voldemort and I've point blank refused to and he knows where I sleep now and my parents are unlikely to protect me from him? Why wouldn't you think I'd be okay?" Sirius said sarcastically. When he saw the look on Marissa's face, he was instantly remorseful. "It's okay, Riss. I'll make it through somehow. I always have."

"But you've always half-bargained with them before," Peter put in. Sirius shot him a glare when Marissa's eyes widened even further in fear for him.

"Yeah, well, we all knew this day would come. Besides, they're not about to kill off a male heir when Regulus has a new job that they both know is highly dangerous," Sirius said casually. So casually he almost believed it himself. He could see Marissa beginning to and was immensely grateful for that. He didn't want Marissa worried about him. She and Lily, after all, couldn't contact him at all while he was in that house.

"Riss, let's go see how our illustrious Heads are handling their last fling with authority, what do you say?" Remus said hastily, taking her arm and leading her toward the Prefects Compartment. Sirius sent him a grateful look when he looked back briefly. Marissa went along willingly, casting only one worried look back in his direction.

"Don't know what she's all in a flurry about," Sirius said casually, "Of all the Marauders, the most likely to die before graduation by my estimation is Prongs here. Lily-induced death, of course."

"All right, Padfoot, let's find a compartment in whatever area of the train Marissa assigned me."

Lizzie was decidedly teary-eyed as she passed out the patrol schedules for the train. Gideon squeezed her hand reassuringly as she addressed the Prefects in the crisp, business-like tone they had all come to know so well. There was no doubt that Lizzie Walker could command her troops well. Gideon smiled at them, "Good luck to all of you. Thanks for a great year. Good luck to all you sixth years, the Heads next year had better come from you lot!"

Everyone laughed as Gideon himself had not been a prefect before assuming his role as Head Boy. "As for our fellow seventh years, it was a heck of year to be our last at Hogwarts. The class of 1976 is going to be going out a making a lot of waves in the world. We've been at the helm of it here, and I don't think that for most of us it'll be too long before we're back in a similiar position again. Everyone in this room is very talented and I see great things in your futures. I hope to meet you again soon."

They all cheered, of course. "Also, Lizzie and I would like to invite you personally to a little event we've scheduled for July 5th 1977. We'll work out all the details sometime over the next year, but we'd like all of you to come to our wedding."

There was an instant uproar as the all the girls swarmed on Lizzie and several of the guys shook their heads at Gideon, murmuring things to the effect of, "Why tie yourself down so young, man?" There were also murmurs of another kind, but no one heard them.

The Heads finally, for the last time, asserted their authority and ordered everybody out to patrol. Laughing, Gideon hauled Lizzie to his side in the deserted compartment. "What do you say, Miss Walker, we duck inside the Heads Lounge for a spell?"

"You mean the luxury room? What in the world would we do in there with free butterbeer, snacks, and more comfortable seats?" Lizzie laughed as she followed Gideon inside. "I mean, truly, I don't see the point of it. What could we possibly need privacy for?"

Once inside, Gideon cut her off with a kiss.

* * *

"They say there's been no movement from the compartment, but it reads as occupied. I'm going to make sure whoever it is is just napping and not in trouble," Marissa told Remus, nodding toward one of the doors along one of their cars.

"Probably just a loner who won't appreciate being bothered," Remus warned.

"You know we have to check," Marissa said, rolling her her eyes to indicate that he was probably right.

Being an outcast even in Slytherin House had a few advantages, but an empty compartment was one that Severus Snape rather enjoyed. He had an old book he had finally managed to find time to read, any who would have spotted it at Hogwarts would have been alarmed, and had no desire for other company. That was why he was most displeased to hear the compartment door slide open.

At first he thought to not look up and ignore whoever had the temerity to enter until they thought better of their action. However, as they waited there, he eventually slid his eyes up to the face of Marissa Fletcher who looked slightly amused by the scene she was regarding. That girl always looked slightly amused by something. It left a most annoying expression perpetually on her face.

"If you're waiting there so patiently for me to thank you, Fletcher, you'd do better to try to train trolls for the ballet," Snape said cuttingly, pointedly returning to his reading.

The crazy flibbertigibit actually chuckled. "I'm not waiting for anything, Severus, merely doing my rounds," she replied. Snape's anger instantly flared up. Who did she think she was? To address him as if she knew him? As if they were _friends?_

"I don't intend on repaying you, if you've come to collect," Snape snapped at her.

"I thought I had made it clear that you owe me nothing," Marissa replied calmly. "Have I asked for anything? I was saving James as much as you and he has not thanked me. Why should I expect it from you?"

"Get out, Mudblood!"

Marissa stiffened, but did not move. "Nor do I owe you anything, though I will offer you a piece of advice anyway," Marissa said in a slightly tight voice.

"I don't want advice from filth like you," Snape spat. "Just because we were potions partners, don't think you know me. Don't think we're friends."

"You are free to disregard my advice, of course," Marissa said equably. "You don't have to like me, Severus, and you don't have to feel that you are in my debt. I did not save your life, merely a piece of your dignity. I ask nothing of you, not even civility. But if you continue to spit on all your champions, on anyone who comes to your assisstance, you will find yourself in a situation someday with no one willing to come to your rescue," she said calmly. "Less they suffer your displeasure. I just hope that, when that day comes, that you do not find you need someone's help after all."

"I thought I'd made myself plain," Snape said, rising to his feet with his wand out and pointing at her. Marissa didn't blink as he put it right between her eyes. "Get out of my compartment you filthy little - "

"Don't chase everyone away, Severus, or you will find yourself quite alone indeed," Marissa said quietly. "Without anyone even to pity you for it."

Before Snape could retort, Remus appeared in the compartment door. "Riss, what's going..." He drew his wand and locked eyes with Snape. "Drawing on a prefect is detention, Snape."

"The school year's over, Lupin," Snape said coldly.

"Riss, leave him to curl up in his hole all alone, that's what he wants," Remus suggested, stepping aside to allow her to step out.

"That's what he's setting himself up for," Marissa said quietly. "That's the life he's preparing for." But after that, she turned and thankfully left Snape's presence. He glowered at Lupin until he closed the door behind him. It was unaccountably more difficult to focus on his book, however, when they were gone.

* * *

"Black! Black, wait! You know I can't go any further down the train, I want to talk to you! Black! Sirius Black, come here!" Lily was calling from the door to the car down the corridor at a tall, black haired young man.

When he turned, however, it was not Sirius's face. Though it was very similiar. "Don't call me by that name, you dirty little Mudblood," Regulus Black said coldly and proudly to her. "The proud name of Black on your lips dirties it almost as much as the pathetic boy you are calling."

Lily felt her wand in her hand and had no idea how it had gotten there. It took great effort not to raise it to strike at the boy standing there so proudly. "Rest assured that I will never mistake you for Sirius again any more than I would see a rat and think it an owl," she replied coldly, with a great dignity that put his superior air to shame. "Tell me, do your airs comfort you in your emptiness? Tell me, are they enough? It is obvious that you have nothing else. Not class or skill or real friends. Tell me, is scorn enough to comfort you in the night when you wake and have no one to console you?"

"I'm not the one who has call to fear what goes bump in the night, little muggle," Regulus said haughtily. "You are the one who will wake one day to find everything you ever loved destroyed, your very life about to end, knowing first that everything you have ever done will be undone. Tell me, will your pride be with you then?"

"Tell _me,_ brother," Sirius almost snarled, coming up behind Lily. "Does it make you feel better about yourself? To look on a Muggle-born with more power in her little finger than you will ever have and say to yourself that the evil in which you put your protection will try to destroy her because of the good she defends? Or does it just make you feel weaker? That you hide behind a madman's cloak while she stands before him unbending? She will be in danger, but she will also be her own woman. Will it make you feel better, owned and whipped as you are?"

"You'll never know, brother, the power that you gave up," Regulus said contemptuously. "You are a disgrace to the Black family name. Gryffindor? I thought that they were the brave. Yet you did not have the courage to take power when it fell into your hands. I see that they are just the fools."

"You didn't even have the courage to stand up to Mother," Sirius replied with equal contempt. "You didn't do this for the power, you did it for her."

"You just don't like that now Mother loves me," Regulus said pompously.

"Yes, because you licked her boots and the boots of that monster Malfoy," Sirius spat. Lily gasped, but neither boy noticed.

"Lucius Malfoy is a great man!" Regulus shouted, "A better man that you'll ever be."

"Oh going to start snogging his arse now, are you?" Sirius spat back.

"You are not my brother!"

"Just what I've always wanted!" Sirius shouted back, slamming the door to the car just as Regulus whirled around and marched off.

Sirius and Lily looked at each other for a long moment. "I'm sorry I ever complain about Petunia to you, Sirius," Lily said.

Sirius smiled slightly and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "There are many kinds of dysfunctional families, Lily. But I can tell you one thing, I won't be putting up with mine for much longer."

* * *

Marissa and Remus finished their patrol and slid into the Prefects Compartment. "Well, you were wrong, Remus," Marissa said with a smirk on her face. He looked at her questioningly. "At the beginning of the year, you said we'd never make it this far. I believe your exact words were a Marauder and a troublemaker will never make it through a year as prefects."

Remus laughed. "So I did. Well, even the best of us have been known to err," he smiled. "You made it easy, my noble partner," he said with a mock-bow to her. "It was a pleasure."

Marissa smiled genuinely at him. "It had its advantages," she conceded. "I'll miss our weekly patrols. It was fun to stay up all night when everyone else had to go to sleep."

"I'll miss our dancing lessons," Remus countered. "Just when you were beginning to cure me of my clumsiness."

"I wouldn't quite say that," Marissa teased.

The glint of challenge appeared in Remus's eye and he grabbed her hand and spun her out before she could react. He spun her in again, still with a challenge in his eyes. Marissa waved her wand, smiling slyly, and tango music drifted down from the ceiling.

Luckily, the Prefects Compartment was empty. The Heads Lounge, however, was not. Lizzie and Gideon tip-toed out of it and saw the two of them dancing. When the music ended, they applauded and startled Remus and Marissa nearly out of their wits. They sprang apart as if they were doing something wrong. This made Lizzie and Gideon laugh. "Riss, can I steal you away for a minute?" Lizzie said before their faces could turn too red.

Marissa followed her into the Heads Lounge, gaping at the cozy, comfortable room that was more her idea of luxury. "Butterbeer?" Lizzie asked, brandishing two unopened bottles as Marissa plopped down on the couch.

Marissa nodded and took one from her, sitting cross-legged on the cushion facing Lizzie. "Are you going to tell me how he proposed?" she said in a decidedly giggly voice.

"I suppose you have earned that," Lizzie agreed, sitting down in the same position, also sounding girlishly excited. "But first I want to thank you," she said more seriously. "For believing in the two of us even when I didn't anymore. You did so much to get us together. I'll never forget it, Riss. You've been a great friend."

"The least I could do," Marissa said with a smile. "I'm addicted to true love stories. I was just so overjoyed you let me be a part of yours."

"Well, I was hoping that you'd help me with the wedding," Lizzie said. "I don't have any sisters, and it's not that my mother won't be willing, but it'd be great to have someone else, especially someone with such a flair for the wizarding world. Help her get used to it."

"I'd love to!" Marissa cried, catching Lizzie's excitement quite easily. "When I can, at least. What can I do?"

"Well, they say the dress and the cake define what kind of wedding you're going to have," Lizzie said, sounding rather as if she had swallowed a Brides magazine. "So Mum and I are going dress shopping in a week. Will you come? Tell me if I look awful in it? If I can pull it off as dress robes?"

"I'd love to!" Marissa giggled. "Actually, that's rather perfect. Maybe if you and I bury ourselves in the Muggle world enough Father will forget this Coming Out Ball he's been going on about. Can you imagine the humiliation?"

"From Coming Out in society? You should, Riss! You could ask Remus to escort you..." Lizzie said slyly. He is, after all, your star pupil.

Marissa looked oddly thoughtful for a moment. "Lizzie, can you tell me something?" she asked in a serious voice. "How did you know? About Gideon? How did you know going in?" She paused for a minute, then went on, "Because you had to know. You had to know before it even started that he was the one, or it wasn't worth the risk. It wasn't worth the thought of him..." Lizzie shuddered and Marissa paused again. "Sometimes you just have to know going in."

"Like when he's one of your best friends?" Lizzie said softly. "And you don't know if you should risk what you have?"

Marissa looked up at her gratefully and nodded, "How do you know, Lizzie?"

Lizzie looked down for a moment thoughtfully. When she spoke, it was in a reflective voice as if finding the truth even as she voiced it, "I suppose ... the answer is ... you don't. Not until you see him about to walk away, and it suddenly hits you that you will never get this moment, this chance back again. And something inside you suddenly screams, 'Don't you dare blow it!' And you can't bear the thought that this will all dissolve, even if you'd decided that it could never be. If you cry out, if you call for him to stop, then you know."

* * *

"Well boys, I think we did a very respectable job causing mayhem this year," Mr Prongs said with the air of a club president giving a commencement speech.

"In my personal estimation, we even outdid the great Miss Fletcher," Mr Padfoot added in a similiar tone. "Though she did give us a run for our money."

"Personally, I heartily believe that Valentine's Day fiasco was quite amateur compared to the Ravenclaw v. Hufflepuff Ball Swap," Mr Wormtail put in.

"And the Christmas Scavenger Hunt no match for the Zonko's 'Fire' that fooled half of Hogsmeade," Mr Moony concurred.

"And, of course, painting the sky simply not the same caliber of a feat as bewitching McGonagall herself," Mr Prongs said boastfully.

"And even if she did sneak her little brother into the school, let's see her become animagus in less than three years without any outside help," Mr Padfoot said ringingly. A little too ringingly for Mr Moony and Mr Wormtail's nerves, though Mr Prongs was hardly worried. "And of course, the Map tops all."

"Ah, the Map!" Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs repeated in unison, clanking their purloined butterbeer bottles together.

"Only one thing remains before the Map can be officially christened with the password, boys," Mr Prongs said, pulling the crisp new parchment out of his robes. Automatically, Mr Moony waved his wand carelessly at the compartment door to lock it. Officially, you could not lock the Hogwarts train doors. Obviously this hadn't stopped the Marauders for long. "Each creator must inject a piece of their personality into the Map to keep it alive and on its toes for years to come."

"So that it can become a part of the soul of Hogwarts," Mr Moony added.

"A thing of Hogwarts legend and folklore," Mr Padfoot corrected.

"Down in history, oral history if nothing else," Mr Wormtail agreed.

"The stuff of legends, my friends," Mr Prongs said.

"Prongs, I already said that," Mr Padfoot complained.

"You're forgetting, we're the same person, Mr Padfoot, as far as the Marauders are concerned. Isn't that right, Mr Moony?" Mr Prongs said blithely.

"For voting purposes, mainly," Mr Moony clarified hastily. "You should both add your personalities to the Map."

"Would you like to go first, Mr Moony?" Mr Prongs offered graciously. He handed the parchment to Mr Moony who took out his wand. "Remember, a memory you tell us, a memory you don't, and a memory with the four of us in it. Then an insult and a pearl of wisdom."

Mr Moony smiled and raised the wand to his temple. He selected the memory of their initial reaction to his appointment as prefect and told them. They smiled at the memory of Mr Prongs and Mr Padfoot immediately pretending to turn on him as Mr Wormtail looked nervously on. He then selected dancing with Miss Fletcher in the Prefects Compartment a moment ago, a tender smile coming to his face as he placed it in the Map.

Then, Mr Moony selected his most precious memory of all. The night the boys had confronted him with their suspicions and they had hatched the great plan that had made his life so much better and begun their legendary friendship.

"Make the insult one for Snivellus," Mr Prongs suggested when the Memories had all been added.

"Mr Moony wishes no ill on Mr Snape, provided he keeps his abnormally large nose out of other people's business for a change," Mr Moony spoke into the parchment. "As for the pearl of wisdom, there's only one thing that I know for certain. Great friends can change your life, and they're always worth any cost they bring."

"Ah, don't get all sappy on us, Mr Moony," Mr Padfoot laughed. "You'll make me cry!"

"Then why don't you go next?" Mr Moony grunted, passing the heavily enchanted parchment to Mr Padfoot.

Mr Padfoot took the parchment and immediately added the Memories in rapid-fire. It was quite unlike Mr Moony's reflective, ceremonial style. He told them about the first time they had successfully hexed Snape, kept to himself the fight when he decided to break up with Lily, and last of all added the first time they had all dared to enter his house, or rather sneak into it. "And I bet I can beat your insult, Mr Moony," Mr Padfoot challenged.

Whether or not he did, however, none of them could ever judge, because he whispered it secretively to the parchment. They all rolled their eyes. Mr Padfoot surprised them all when it came to his pearl of wisdom and he announced, "You can be brave and right; and you can be brave and wrong. The important thing is to know in your heart which one it is, and to never change your mind if you know you're in the right."

"Very deep, Mr Padfoot," said Mr Prongs with an approving nod. "But I bet I can top it." Mr Padfoot snorted his opinion of that boast. Mr Prongs took the parchment and added his Memories: Marissa's Cloud Formation, (surprisingly) Lily yelling at him after the Defense O.W.L., and the first night they had all transformed and accompanied Remus in the Shrieking Shack.

Mr Prong's insult is best left out of print, though Mr Padfoot, Mr Moony and Mr Wormtail roared with laughter. His pearl of wisdom was a surprising as Mr Padfoot's, "Heroes are not in as short supply as everyone would have you believe. They are merely afraid to admit that they have courage within themselves."

There was silence for a long moment after his pronouncement. "Can you be brave without being brave enough to admit that you're brave?" Mr Padfoot said, sounding quite delighted by the paradox Mr Prongs had stumbled upon.

"Yes," Mr Prongs said simply, passing the parchment to Mr Wormtail.

Unlike the other boys, Mr Wormtail couldn't quite decide what to include. In the end he chose the first time he managed to transform successfully without Mr Padfoot or Mr Prongs's help, this Christmas when he kissed Marissa, and this moment in the Compartment now.

For the insult, he merely said, "Git." He was stuck for a long moment when it came time to think of the pearl of wisdom. The only thing that came to mind was Marissa's words that had rung in his head since Christmas. After a minute, he said them aloud into the parchment, "Loyalty, that's what really matters in the end. It's the difference between a monster and just an enemy. The highest virtue and the hardest thing to get back if you've lost it."

Messrs Moony, Padfoot and Prongs nodded. Then all four boys took hold of a corner of the Map and spoke together the words they had agreed upon for the password, _"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."_

The words slid onto the page,

_"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs  
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers  
are proud to present  
THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

Below it, the great Map itself materialized for the first time. Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs all let out a whoop of triumph and thumped each other on the back. Truly, it was their most impressive accomplishment. It would become the stuff of legends, just as the boys themselves someday would.

* * *

"So, back to the old vultures again," Marissa said as she strolled into the compartment that Lily had secured. "How've you been?"

"Well, all the Marauders abandoned me for James's end of the train," Lily began.

"Did you really expect anything else? They've got to pat themselves on the back for all the mischief they've caused this year before the train arrives," Marissa said with a mischievious smile of her own.

"In that case you should be with them," Lily grumbled.

"You know I had to patrol, I came directly here when Lizzie dismissed me," Marissa said almost sternly to her friend. "I still like you best, Lils."

"I know," Lily snapped. "I just don't want to go home."

Marissa sighed as she plopped down onto the seat opposite her friend. "Me either. For all Gus will notice I might as well stay at Hogwarts over the summer."

Lily snorted contemptuously, "Gus loves you like the very air he breathes. He would be heartbroken if you didn't come home. He'd never forgive you ..." The thought of Petunia that her last sentence brought to mind was too painful and Lily broke off. Why must it always be that way with her sister? Why couldn't she forgive her? Why couldn't she understand that the only thing in the world she had ever begged God for was for her sister to become a witch too? And her mother...

"Is she getting worse, Lils?" Marissa asked. Lily decided that Marissa knew her far too well. "Your mother?"

"There's not too much worse that she can get," Lily replied hoarsely.

"It wasn't your fault, Lils, you know that," Marissa said pointedly. It felt like the thousandth time that they had had this conversation, but Lily still did not look convinced.

"But if she hadn't pulled me out of the way - "

"Stop it," Marissa snapped.

"Then we'd both be fine!" Lily yelled defiantly over her. "You know witches are harder to kill! You know that being hit with a car probably wouldn't kill me! But she - she - and then she'd never have needed to have that blood transfusion and she wouldn't be - "

"You know she would kill you if she heard you talking this way," Marissa said quietly. "Don't do this to yourself."

But Lily wasn't done, "And even if the stupid muggles had given _me_ the blood, James told me about a new treatment for it at St. Mungo's. His uncle had it done. A few potions and a wave of a Healer's wand and boom, all the trouble over. But it doesn't work for muggles. It would have worked for me!"

"Lily, please don't," Marissa said sliding over to the other side of the compartment and giving her best friend a much needed hug. "Just please, don't do this to yourself," she whispered as Lily dissolved into tears and sobbed on her shoulder. "This is why I never told Gus how Mother died. This. This is why I never let him know. He'd kill himself from the inside out just as you're doing now. But it's not fair. It's not fair in either case."

Marissa pushed away to look Lily square in the eye as she said, "In both cases, it wasn't your choice. It was hers. Ultimately, it was hers." She immediately let Lily fall back to crying in her arms. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault," Marissa murmured over and over again in an unchanging litany.

"I'm sorry, Riss," Lily whispered after a long time. "It must seem unforgivably selfish to cry to _you_ about a dying mother."

"Sh," Marissa replied. "It's all right. Who better to talk to?"

"Nobody I know," Lily answered. "But if you thought that I'm bad about blaming myself, you should hear Petunia."

"No!" Marissa cried in surprise.

"Recent development. Mom and Dad think that Vernon put it into her head after she told him that I was witch," Lily said hollowly.

"I could ring his little -" Marissa began furiously.

"Vernon Dursley is many things, Riss, but little is not one of them," Lily said in what was almost a laugh.

* * *

On Platform Nine and Three Quarters, four boys clasped hands and passed smiles around. Each knew that the summer would be gloomy without the company of their friends, dearer to them than life itself. The boys were still excessively pleased with themselves for the first rate mayhem that they were in a habit of practicing.

In later days, such gloomy looks would be saved for funerals and Order meetings. For talks of plots against their lives and traitors in their midst. For threats on family and attacks on them too. For the deaths of mothers and fathers and brothers, however little or much they had thought before that they would mourn them.

Those days were closer than they knew, but that is perhaps kinder. For now they were merely the Marauders, Hogwarts' troublemakers in chief and best friends bound with the ties that bind. They had made a game and an adventure of the darkest secret among them. They had worries and cares, but they did not stop them from anything that they loved.

One waned for want of his true love. One suffered for the love of his friends, never dreaming that he already had it in spades. One still endured the wretched moon's whimsies with fear and hatred. One suffered for family and his wish to be rid of it.

These cares would soon be multiplied until the destruction and fear surrounding them could not be long ignored, but for now they were merely four friends who believed that all the evils of the world could not stand between them nor threaten to part them. Not even death.

Would that they had been right.

Two girls hugged each other a few feet away. They knew the terrors of the world but did not yet imagine their full extent. They knew the sorrows the boys ignored, scoffed at. They faced them bravely just as they would when they raged around them in full force. The boys would find themselves equal to it, the girls already knew somewhere deep inside that they were. They were ready to do whatever it took if it meant protecting someone that they loved.

Would that less had been demanded of them.

Then the families were upon them with varying degrees of enthusiasm and affection until it was all that they could do to say goodbye to their friends in the other group. Breaking away long enough to say a hurried goodbye and a quick hug, they found themselves in chaos very quickly. Lily was even hugging James before she realized what she was doing and shoved him roughly away.

With considerably less fuss, a solemn, unsmiling boy who had no such idealistic notions of the world as did the Gryffindor six walked with impeccable dignity to his waiting mother and walked without saying or receiving a farewell from the platform. He cast only one look back at those swarming off the train. The look was for the six who haunted his steps in the corridors and seemed to mock him with their smiles.

His eyes lingered a moment longer on the blonde girl in their midst than on any other. She half turned in his direction, drawn by his gaze it seemed, but he turned hurriedly away before she could see that he had watched her. Lest the Mudblood be encouraged.

Would that he had listened to her.

Slowly, the families in the group began to break away, their reluctant children in tow. Remus looked over at Marissa who was hugging Gus with a brilliant smile on her face. Even after all that they had been through, it was still so innocent and almost childlike the way they greeted each other. It was so different from the way that Petunia had treated Lily on the other side of the Platform. "May the Force be with you, Gus," she said cheerfully.

"Hey! You got it right!" Gus cried in surprise.

"I should, I saw your precious movie on a Hogsmeade trip," Marissa told him with considerable excitement for his reaction.

Remus, however, missed it. His mother had secured his trunk to a manservant she had dragged along on this errand and was trying to get him to leave.

When he had a chance to look back at Marissa and Gus, she was sending him back to their father to tell him where she had stored her trunk so that he could help her carry it. She smiled at him warmly and walked over to him.

She slid her arms around his neck as he embraced her. Something about holding her just felt so right. Remus sighed. After a long moment, they both let go. "Take care of yourself, Remus," she said seriously. "You'd better owl me this time," she added sternly.

"I will, Riss," Remus said with a laugh at her severity. "Goodbye."

Marissa smiled, but seemed unwilling to say goodbye. "Don't get into too much trouble," she said after a moment.

Remus laughed again. "Yes, milady," he said, sweeping a gallant bow and kissing her hand ceremoniously. It sent a slight shock through her, but Remus did not notice.

His mother called imperiously and he stifled a groan as he turned to follow her out of the station. Marissa stood quite still, hardly aware of her father coming up behind her with her trunk secured on a cart.

All of her thoughts were on the brown haired boy walking slowly away from her, and she found that it was very hard to bear. He had almost reached his mother when she heard herself cry out, "Remus!"

Almost against her will, she found herself sprinting forward to where he had stopped. Once she reached him, she found she had absolutely nothing to say, however. After a flustered moment, she siezed on the first thought that came into her mind. "Remus, there's this big Coming Out Ball this summer..."

* * *

©KatyMulvaney11/22/2004

**Posted:**


	13. Getting Out

**Chapter Thirteen  
Getting Out**

Had the Marauders once bragged that they knew every inch of the Forbidden Forest? Oh the egos they had had back then! Even at their peak, in mid-sixth year, they of all people should have known how fickle and unpredictable the forest was. It was more than a match for their skill at the time and enough to keep anyone on his toes. Sixteen years later, the Forbidden Forest was proving its treacherous nature to one of the Marauders all over again. Sirius Black was beginning to realize how little they had ever really understood of it.

Sixteen years had been the death of all the pathways that he knew of except for Hagrid's which had been much extended into the interior of the forest, not merely leading to the Spider's Lair any more. If some of the larger landmarks hadn't remained roughly the same distance and direction from each other and the castle, all would have been lost. Imagine, a Marauder lost on Hogwarts Grounds! Peter would have no such problems, Sirius said to himself while grinding his teeth. He'd probably been all over the castle and forest gathering new secrets so that Sirius, sixteen years out of practice, couldn't compete. Once again, little Peter had proven himself the cleverest of the Marauders.

If he hadn't been in his dog form, Sirius never would have made it. Two feet tired sooner than four, but the forest was beyond a match for his waning endurance. So when he shambled into the tiny clearing, beyond weary in body and spirit, he barely made it to the snow-woman. After swimming fifty miles until he nearly drowned and washed up on a small island, another twenty miles to the mainland, traveling across the country and the final perilous trek through the Forbidden Forest with his wits already dull from exhaustion, the sight of her had never been more welcome.

Nor had it ever been more comforting. Sirius limped to the white firgure that, in mid-October still surrounded by green grass and colorful leaves, looked more like a marble statue than a snow-woman except for the delicate fragileness of it. Whimpering at the beauty he had forgotten for twelve long years, he laid his shaggy, bedraggled head at her pristine feet. He found himself sobbing, something far more difficult in his animal form when his emotions were generally less intense or at least less responsive to his surroundings.

But there was no repressing his reaction to this. It was more real than the sight of land or England or the castle or anything else that signalled that his hell was over that this angel was before him again. Her limp, stiffening body and glassy, unseeing eyes had haunted him every day for the last twelve years until he had doubted he could even remember her living face. Now all the good times flooded back to him, her radiant smile a balm to the deep lines that would never leave his face, the scars of Azkaban.

He wasn't sure if he had loved her back then though he had wondered at times, but he had never loved anyone as much as he loved her for this moment, for the peace she brought after the torment and trials of his soul. Her sweet, powerful presence was with him now, her memory flooding his troubled mind. She had promised that she would always be with him. The truth was, she had lied. For twelve years he had lost the memory of everything but the attack, her collapse, and her death. But now, in his first true peace since entering Azkaban, the pure sweet memories almost too lovely to bear after so much sorrow, he could forgive her for that lie and so much more. Even for haunting him so in Azkaban, even for encouraging him to reach out to Peter.

And she had been right, as they should have known by then she always was. But those thoughts would not disturb the tranquility of this moment. Not even Peter could do that.

As his heavy eyelids began to close, he thanked Marissa Fletcher who had been his angel of comfort in so many lesser ordeals for this moment. No crying himself into a nightmare-ridden haze even more vivid than his waking hours, but the first untroubled sleep of Sirius Black since the death of Lily and James Potter.

* * *

The house was not what he had expected from his blindly wizarding point of view. It was rather like the houses along the same street as his own, yet even grander and more ornate. It was a rather intimidating house which, as Sirius thought with a snort, was probably her father's intention when he bought it. Not, of course, that it stood out particularly from the others along the street. It was no more or less impressive than its neighbors. Though, standing on its own, it would have been enough to turn heads.

It was in all accounts the wrong house for Marissa Fletcher to have grown up in. It was imposing and grand and ornate and showy and everything that Marissa, for all her fabulous sense of showmanship, was not. Standing on the street looking up at the house and down at the number almost dubiously, Sirius Black found himself in the same predicament as Peter Pettigrew had six months ago. The house did not look like Marissa Fletcher belonged there. She probably didn't.

Sirius had considerably less trouble figuring out the knocker than Peter had, having made several visits to James's house without a muggle in tow (Peter's mother really didn't let him do anything once they stepped outside of the house and his father was just as bad in the wizarding world). In fact, Sirius was a little disappointed that Marissa did not seem to have a doorbell. Or was that what that hanging thing was? At James's house it was just a button...

"Sirius, come in," Marissa said cheerfully, for all the world as if she had been expecting him. "You and Peter are both very lucky that we tend to prefer the foremost rooms of the house. We'd never hear even that huge old knocker if we were in the back."

"You do have a bell?" Sirius heard his voice and was shocked at the depressed quality of it. He'd been in that house too long. He should have left the first day. He had known then what the rest of the summer would be like; he had known that it would eventually come to this. Why had he bothered to try and stay longer?

"You think a house this size would lack for anything?" she laughed as she mockingly gestured to her surroundings. Sirius smiled weakly, wishing that he could throw off the shadow his family had put on his life as easily as he had given them the slip. "Here, let me help you with your trunk," Marissa said, taking stepping outside and nimbly lifting the other end of the trunk before Sirius could protest. "Mavi will kill you if you scrape that along her precious floor."

They didn't carry it far into the house. They left it waiting in an out of the way corner in the foyer. Sirius, though he had seldom seen his house from the outside, was reasonably certain that it would fit comfortably in a space the size of the foyer, dining area and kitchen that he saw in rapid succession. The kitchen looked as if it were built to accomodate ten to twenty chefs, but there was only one apron hanging by the oven.

There were two teacups sitting out, however, and two pieces of cake were laid out on dessert plates. The real cake stood just a little to the side. Sirius raised an eyebrow at her, a quirk she had often said she envied, when she sat down calmly at one of the chairs and gestured for him to take the other. "Been expecting me?" he asked when she showed no sign of explaining.

"Of course," Marissa replied infuriatingly and took a dainty sip of tea. She seemed determined not to give up her secret yet. Sirius was annoyed. He'd had enough of subtle games this summer.

"How could you possibly know?" he all but snapped.

Marissa didn't flinch at his tone, though she did put her cup down and regard him seriously, "Well, the Howler your mother sent this morning helped."

Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. Now that he thought about it, however, it was just like the old boot. He heard Marissa continuing over the furious ringing in his ears, "Don't worry, none of us will heed it. She said to warn you she sent one to 'all your little friends the filth and blood traitors' warning them not to harbour you. Apparently, the sky will fall on us if we cross her." Marissa sounded amused again as she took another tiny sip of her tea.

"Worse than that, Riss," Sirius said candidly. He wasn't quite sure whether he thought the old witch meant it, but he didn't like any of his friends taking that gamble.

"I put wards on the house long ago, Sirius, so did my mother, I now suspect," Marissa told him seriously. "I know the days we live in will be dark. With or without an old lady in Grimmauld Place out for my blood."

Sirius didn't know quite what to say to that. He was relieved that she had thought to protect herself - somehow Sirius had always pessimistically thought Marissa too optimistic to ever realize that she might be in danger. "Have some tea, Sirius, you look as if you need it," she urged.

Obediently, Sirius raised the cup to his lips and the piping hot liquid slid into his mouth and down his throat. The aftertaste that lingered, however, was decidedly alcoholic to Sirius's well-trained palette. "So is that the secret to your cheerfulness then?" Sirius asked with a brave imitation of his customary smirk.

Marissa laughed briefly. "I picked the lock on the liquor cabinet this morning. I thought you might need a drink, even if it is just Muggle whiskey. Don't know how you drink that stuff personally, I tried a taste of it and ended up spitting it out in the sink."

"That's _your_ story," Sirius said impishly.

Marissa laughed again. "I don't have an owl, but you can call James from the phone whenever you want," she told him. "With that trunk, Mr Potter better come pick you up in his car."

"You have this all worked out?" Sirius said in surprise and gratitude.

"You did your part in cutting ties with those - " Marissa cut herself off before she spoke ill of anyone. Sirius was impressed that she had come that close. She leaned forward and said earnestly, "That took a lot of courage. I'm proud of you, Padfoot."

Sirius barely registered that it was the first time in five years that she had called him by his chosen nickname. He was too focused on the closeness of this girl who could make him laugh and forget his family this of all days. She was still leaning toward him when he quickly closed the distance between them.

Sirius was rather proud of his reputation as a good kisser. He was realist enough to realize that he tasted of old man's whiskey and had taken her by considerable surprise, but he was still surpised to feel her pull away.

Marissa, for her part, looked directly at him and said, "I think you need a little more of this." She produced the whiskey bottle from somewhere and poured more into his teacup.

Sirius stared at her for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. "Don't be stingy," he said amiably, tilting the cup back and gulping it down the minute she finished pouring. He wasn't sure how he felt about what had just happened. Obviously Marissa had decided that it wouldn't affect their friendship, and he could accept that. It might even be best. He fell so often in and quickly out of love that he was beginning to doubt that the real thing existed. Look what the closest thing he had yet seen had brought James.

Marissa was a great friend, a rock in the storm in so many ways. It was imperative for him to have her in his life right now. Trying to make them a couple, particularly against her wishes, would only jeopardize her ability to be there for him. How could she be there to cheer him up after they broke up? Or had a fight? Who, if not she, would tell him to get over himself and apologize? Well, all right, Remus could do that, but even so, Marissa had a vital role as a friend in his life.

The alcohol was hitting his system just in time, he decided. Just before he could begin to wonder what it would be like to have her for his girlfriend.

Sirius smiled over at the girl who seemed a perfect match for him even if she couldn't see it, perfect except for the fact that she was so open and candid. She played coy games, but she always let her feelings show to those who cared to look. It was enormously refreshing after the noble and most ancient house of Black.

"I'll never meet anyone else like you as long as I live, Marissa Fletcher," Sirius told her seriously, smiling at his friend.

"Nor I you, Sirius Black," Marissa replied seriously though the perpetual twinkle in her eyes was still apparent. "You're one in a million." She was almost teasing him now.

"And you're one of a kind," Sirius said.

By mutual consent, they raised their teacups and hit them together lightly to signify a toast before draining the liquid inside.

* * *

James was positively roaring his approval of Sirius's flight when he arrived at Marissa's mansion. Mr and Mrs Potter looked uncharacteristically nervous and timid in the grand environment, but once Marissa ushered them into the kitchen for tea they seemed much more comfortable. They knew Marissa, and, even if her house did, she was not the type to put on airs. Any uncomfortable awareness of the different levels of luxury the two families enjoyed was greatly dispelled by the sight of Sirius, Marissa, and Mundungus all clustered around the piano (which no one who lived in the house now knew how to play) singing very loudly very off-key.

Marissa invited them to stay for lunch and Mr and Mrs Potter in turn offered to take them all to lunch. When both offers were graciously refused, the business of moving Sirius's trunk began in full swing. As the Potters and Mavi stood about debating the best way to accomplish this and arguing heatedly over who was stronger and better able to carry the other end of the trunk to help Mr Potter, the three teenagers sat in the (relatively) small reading room that the Fletchers had long ago adopted as the most comfortable room in the house. Jerome Fletcher didn't host dinner parties or guests in it, but when the three of them had an evening all to themselves, that was where they chose to spend it.

Marissa had ended up in the chair usually left reverently empty for the late Livy Fletcher but found it ironic rather than painful. "So, are you going to tell us what the final straw was, Sirius?" she asked when they had all settled in.

"Regulus," Sirius said simply. James and Marissa said nothing but continued to look at him expectantly until he sighed and realized that they were prepared to wait him out. "He's just so bleeding proud of being a junior Death Eater! And not that junior anymore. He's got his first assignment on Friday night, and you should hear that old battle-axe going on about it as if he's been elected to Parliament."

"Parliament?" Marissa cried in surprise.

"You and Lily have been jabbering nonsense about muggle politics and history at meals for five years and you don't think we've picked up any of it? James even used to join in on your discussions," Sirius replied in a slightly annoyed tone.

"No, I was just imagining your mother's reaction to Regulus really being elected to Muggle Parliament," Marissa said in a highly amused tone.

Sirius rolled his eyes in her direction. "Well, I couldn't stomache it. For all she knows he's going to be committing blackmail or threatening someone or even killing someone - "

"And are you going to do nothing?" Marissa said sharply.

Sirius stopped, looking profoundly confused. James snapped the idea right up, "She's right, you know, highly unchivalrous and almost cowardly of you not to say something about it."

"First of all, it will probably be rescheduled if Regulus mentions that I knew about it," Sirius began, "Though I'm not sure that he would. Secondly, what am I going to say? You know the spells my family put me under prevent me from turning in my family directly."

"So we'll find a way to do it indirectly," James said irrepresibly. "Don't be timid, Padfoot. This is important."

"How did you get involved in this, _Prongs?_" Sirius almost snapped. "And this is Death Eaters. Never forget that."

"Don't you either," Marissa said mildly, looking at him earnestly. "If you can't tell the Ministry ahead of time, the least you can do is follow him on Friday night and call the Ministry anonymously to report where he's going."

"You know, that actually might work..." James said, the wheels dangerously starting to turn in his head.

"This isn't the muggle world, Marissa. He doesn't have to leave the house to travel, how on earth am I going to follow him?"

"We can find a way, Padfoot, we're the Marauders."

"Which is all very well and good on Hogwarts Grounds where the worst that can happen is a detention, but this is the real world and we're playing with fire."

"So is Regulus," Marissa said seriously. "And whoever he's going to be attacking."

"We don't even know that it's an attack," Sirius protested.

There was silence for a long moment. Then Sirius sighed, "Of course you're right. You're right. And I can see you won't let me do it alone, James, but Marissa, at least you promise me that you'll stay home for this one?"

"I've got a ball on Friday night or I'd put up more of a fight," Marissa replied. "I know it's dangerous, Sirius, but so is Regulus if he's truly become a Death Eater now."

"Wouldn't be much of a Gryffindor if I did nothing," Sirius said resignedly. "But I would have thought I'd done enough for today to turn on my family and suffer their wrath."

"You just wouldn't be our Sirius if you stopped there," Marissa said with an encouraging smile at him. "One in a million."

Sirius snorted and Marissa let out a giggle. James looked confusedly back and forth between them as they shared their private joke, then shrugged nonchalantly. Before anything else could be decided about the proposed expedition, the adults came in to announce that the trunk (despite their best efforts) had been safely stored in the car.

* * *

It seemed that no sooner had James and Sirius driven off in the Potters' car than the Walkers' car was pulling into the driveway. Calling to Mavi in the house and Mundungus out playing in the street, Marissa rushed excitedly out to meet them and slid into the car. "Lizzie!" Marissa cried, giving her friend a hug.

Lizzie immediately returned the hug. "How've you been?"

Mrs. Walker snorted. "I'm sorry, girls, but you're acting like it's been ages since you've seen each other. It hasn't even been a week," she said laughing. Lizzie and Marissa chuckled self-consciously.

"Riss, meet the bluntest woman alive, Mum, the craziest girl alive," Lizzie introduced them impudently. The girl looked positively giddy, but then a young woman on the way to pick out her wedding dress was entitled to that.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Fletcher," Mrs Walker said with a serenity that belied her previous comment.

"Marissa, please, Mrs Walker," Marissa corrected immediately.

"Very well dear," she said. "I spoke to your father and he said you were to pick out a dress as well?"

"Oh so you did decide to go to the ball!" Lizzie cried gleefully. "You asked Remus, didn't you? Oh I know you did!"

"Lizzie, you're embarrassing the poor girl, she's ten shades of red already," Mrs Walker admonished.

"It's only fair, Mum. She's the one who threw Gideon and me together until we finally clicked. It's my turn to meddle in _her_ love life now," Lizzie said with a decidedly mischievious gleam in her eye.

"Leave the poor girl alone. If she's asked this boy to a ball then she's obviously taking enough of her own initiative," Mrs Walker said reasonably.

"It's all right, Mrs Walker, Lizzie does have a point," Marissa said, recovering her natural skin tone. "I think I deserve just about anything Lizzie can dish out after bewitching their first kiss so that cupids sang all around them and fireworks exploded."

Mrs Walker laughed, turning to the backseat to regard the giggling girls, "I didn't realize that you meant that literally, Lizzie," she said in a surprise voice. "I just thought that you were young. If that boy hadn't been so mature and responsible when he asked your father and me for your hand I'd swear that you were both far too young to be married. Now it's only you I worry about."

The three laughed. By the time they had driven to the wedding boutique, anyone would be completely convinced that they had know each other their whole lives. Anyone would swear that Marissa must be Lizzie's younger sister (the fact that they did resemble each other helped) rather than just a friend. Mrs Walker was just as motherly toward her as if she had been her daughter rather than a strange witch that she had met only half an hour before.

And if there was one thing that could be said about Marissa it was that she was strange. She spent a good ten minutes chatting up the salesgirl, pulling quarters out her ear and entertaining a nearby flowergirl for another bride who looked extremely grateful. Her distraction was easily forgiven when they were given priority service once her attention finally returned to the dress search. They even managed to attain in the fairly busy store two salesgirls for Lizzie and one for Marissa who modeled several ball gowns before they found the perfect one.

Lizzie's wedding dress was a far longer affair, but then her dress was for a far more meaningful occassion than a witch coming out in Muggle society.

They went through princess dresses and _Gone With the Wind_ replicas. They rejected frilly dresses and ones so simple they could be worn for any occassion. Bell skirts and hoops skirts and flat skirts and petticoats were all tried on and ultimately dismissed. Dresses decorated with flowers and bows and lace were all returned frustratedly to the racks. They had almost decided on a sleeveles dress before Lizzie caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror and decided that her shoulders looked too large in it.

Marissa was beginning to make good-natured cracks about being there until it was time for the wedding itself when they found it. They all knew it the moment that they saw her step out of the dressing room. None of them could quite have said what made this dress so different from all the rest except for the fact that it was the indisputably the right one.

The skirt fell with in a bell-like curve from the torso section with was embroidered with tiny, delicate pearls sewn into the intricate design. The collar was wide slanted up to where it met her sleeves at her shoulders. The collar was decorated with a gold thread that looked almost like necklace hanging about her neck. The sleeves continued the pattern of the torso and ended elegantly at her wrists with a slight curve to complete the dress.

Lizzie spun around in the dress and the skirts swished as they followed her. She was positively radiant as she looked back at them. Mrs Walker had tears in her eyes. "That's it," Marissa whispered reverently and unnecessarily.

"Marissa Fletcher, you had no right to steal that from me, it is a mother's perogative to say," Mrs Walker said in a weepy voice, her eyes fixed on her daughter. "Especially at a moment like this when I realize she's all grown up."

"Oh Mum," Lizzie sighed, unable to suppress her smile or the light in her eyes that the thought of marrying Gideon produced. Now here she was in her wedding dress. It was all really happening. She was really going to be Lizzie Prewett.

"But it's true, Lizzie," Mrs walker wailed, now crying uncontrollably. "You've grown up and fallen in love and now you're leaving me. You're a woman now. Whatever happened to my little baby? The day I put you on the Hogwarts Express you started growing so quickly it just wasn't fair!"

"Oh Mum!" Lizzie cried again, picking up her skirts and rushing over to give her mother a hug. She stopped halfway there and gave a yelp of alarm and abruptly switched directions as she dove back toward the changing room.

Startled, Marissa and Mrs Walker turned around confusedly to see what had disturbed her. There stood Gideon and Fabian who had just Apparated into the store. "Gideon!" Lizzie wailed in an aggrieved tone as she whirled upon finding the dressing room door locked. She ducked behind the inefficient cover of a small pillar. Mrs Walker heaved a great sigh of frustration.

Marissa was more vocal in her protests. "No! You blustering idiot! What do you think you're doing here?" she scolded them furiously, using her purse to beat at Gideon with her eyes flashing. "It took us hours to find that dress! It's perfect! And now you've gone and seen her in it we can't get it!"

"Gideon! You cost me my dress!" Lizzie added in a highly distressed tone.

Fabian chortled at that comment, elbowing his little brother with a knowing look on his face. "You've undressed her again, little bro!" he said suggestively

Gideon stamped on his foot to show his lack of appreciation for that little joke in front of Lizzie's mother. Mrs Walker shook her head at both of them and walked over to where Lizzie was still trying to duck behind cover. She took her by the hand and led her out into the center of the room again. "It's already been ruined, dear. You might as well let him see you in it," she said reasonably with a knowing smile on her face.

Gideon looked thunderstruck. "Oh Lizzie," he whispered in a hushed tone of voice. "You look beautiful. You can't have been meant for me. I don't deserve something that perfect."

Fabian snorted. Gideon turned to him, "Oh like you looked any different when you saw Anna walking down the aisle. As best man I had a superb view of your shocked face." Fabian laughed again, but his eyes all too soon clouded over with the old pain. Gideon had already turned back to Lizzie who turned slowly to let him see from all angles.

Gideon walked up to her and took her face in his hand. "You're lovely," he whispered, not caring that her mother was only a foot away on the other side of her.

Lizzie smiled at him, but punched him on the arm that wasn't holding her cheek. "Yes, and you've gone and ruined it. What on earth are you doing here anyway?"

"Well I was - ow!" he began, pausing rub his shoulder where her second blow struck him. "Looking for you, actually. Your father said this is where you'd be. We were supposed to put up the wards on your house today, if you remember."

"Oh my goodness, is it that late?" Lizzie cried in surprise, her gloved hand flying to her mouth.

"In fact, by the time you change and take Marissa home it will probably be too late," Fabian said, snapping abruptly out of the trance that had been beginning to alarm Marissa who alone was watching him.

"Can we put them up tomorrow?" Lizzie asked in a tone of apology.

"I'm on assignment until late afternoon Friday. It's until just after the daylight hour, unfortunately. It will have to be Saturday morning," Fabian said clinically and almost robotically.

Lizzie looked at Gideon for explanation of his brother's formal and reserved speech. Gideon shook his head at her. "I don't like leaving it that long, but I suppose there's no helping it. Just as I suppose there's no convincing you not to throw this dress away so lightly," Gideon said turning to Lizzie. "You look truly spectacular in it."

"Gideon," Lizzie said pointedly, "as a very young couple without jobs yet, without a place to live, without having dated for more than four months, with both of us in danger, I think we have enough odds stacked against us to bring more bad luck into the picture."

Gideon laughed. "I love you, Lizzie Walker," he declared loudly.

"Not for too much longer," she said with a smile.

"I made a promise to love you forever," Gideon reminded her in slight confusion.

Now Lizzie laughed. "No, silly. I mean, I won't be Lizzie Walker too much longer," she explained. Seeing the look of intense relief in his eyes, she laughed again and said, "I love you, Gideon Prewett."

"You're giving me a tooth ache, both of you," Fabian added, breaking the trance that they had cast upon each other.

"Oh hush! It's so sweet," Marissa gushed with her hand on her heart.

"The moment's passed, it's all right, Riss," Lizzie replied, moving toward the changing room. "You don't have to guard them so carefully anymore, either. We have a lifetime of them ahead of us now."

She smiled and winked at Gideon before ducking into the now open changing room.

"She's a good one you've got there, little brother," Fabian said unexpectedly in the abrupt way he had acquired in recent months. "But I suspect that she is still singularly angry with you for seeing her in that dress."

"I am too for that matter," Marissa added. "It took us hours and hours to find the perfect one!"

"Funny, I knew the perfect one the moment I saw her," Gideon said and, from his tone and the way his eyes were fixed on the door to the changing room to catch sight of Lizzie the moment she emerged, no one thought that he meant the dress.

* * *

Friday night was clear and the stars shone down beautifully, almost making the guests wish that the Queen's Annual Cotillion (not actually attended by the queen) was held outside. As the most expensive and ostentatious place for a girl to come out into society during the summer, only the most exclusive and rich had made the very tight list. When Marissa arrived with her hair plastered so firmly in its position she didn't think that she would ever be able to get it out of the elegant but overstated hairdo, she took a quick tally and decided that she was nearly the only girl being presented without any title whatsoever.

Of the few others, she was fairly certain that their escorts would be titled. Then again, Remus was titled, just not a title that any of these girls would recognize. Marissa wondered how he was doing with all the little Muggle lordlings.

That brought her sharply to thoughts of how James and Sirius were doing trailing Regulus and how whoever Regulus was going to threaten or attack was doing. Luckily, her mind was jerked back to the powder room by Mavi's arrival with a great deal of make-up in tow. Being dressed up like a doll was fine and distracting while it lasted, but afterwards, it left her with far too much time on her hands to contemplate the worries going around and around inside her head. There was Remus and what he interpreted this dance as, James and Sirius risking life and limb at her prodding, whether or not they would even be able to save Regulus's victim...

Marissa let out an almighty sigh and flopped back against her chair. "You'll smush your dress that way," a girl said from behind her.

She turned slowly and fixed her gaze on a girl who looked vaguelly familiar. She furrowed her brow, regarding the girl with grass green eyes much like Lily's and dark brown hair that fell in thick, lustrous waves down her back. All of a sudden, it clicked, "Meredith!" she cried in surprise.

It had been almost a full six years since she had last seen Meredith Smith, but the girl had been her salvation through many a torturous cotillion when they were younger. She had also learned several of her troublemaking tricks from the girl. "Marissa Fletcher," Meredith replied, formally extending her hand.

Marissa took it in formal greeting out of a long-standing habit that six years of disuse had not rid her of. "Are you being presented tonight as well?" she asked in some surprise for Meredith was two years older than she.

"No, no, my little sister," she said, pointing to a dainty flower of a girl who had Meredith's long hair but unremarkable dark brown eyes. "Who was, until a moment ago, the prettiest girl being presented tonight."

"Oh, who just came in? Should I worry about her stealing my escort away?" Marissa asked pleasantly.

"Very funny, Marissa. I remember you being quicker than that," Meredith said and now Marissa realized why it had taken her so long to recognize Meredith. It was not the subtle changes that six years had brought to her face. It was the coldness in her eyes. "I suppose you always were rather self-depreciating, but going off to some fancy, exclusive, invitation-only boarding school for years, I rather thought you would have given in and become what you were meant to be. A first rate snob."

"Excuse me?" Marissa cried in surprise at the unexpected attack.

"Oh you have all the makings, beauty, brains, contempt for the institutions of society, people love you, you could rule," Meredith continued in a decidedly icy tone. "And your arrival from wherever you have been would upstage all here even if you were not prettier."

A few of her near neighbors were beginning to eye both of them unappreciatively for Meredith's comments were insults to them as well. "I appreciate the compliment, but you are rather mistaken to think me the prettiest girl here. Why, look around us, Meredith. Look at your sister. Surely these beauties are more defined than myself."

"Refined yes," Meredith replied, "they will always have that over you, Marissa Fletcher."

"It's been wonderful seeing you again after all this time, Meredith," Marissa said politely though pointedly nodding at her in farewell.

"Yes," Meredith said, nodding as she strode away.

Marissa sighed again as she watched her retreating back. _I suppose the wizarding world doesn't have a monopoly on prejudice and snobbery._

* * *

Remus was having a distinctly difficult time with the Muggle tuxedo Marissa had provided for him. The shirt, slacks, and jacket were about the only thing that seemed to make sense to him. The other pieces seemed like a practical joke that she had played on him. It was just the sort of thing that she would do, too. Then again, this whole ordeal seemed rather like a practical joke to him. Not that she knew how he felt about her, but he found himself wishing that this were a real date rather than a favor to a friend. It was favor, however, that would require him to take on many of the postures of a boyfriend. Fate certainly had a sense of humor that it inflicted willfully on Remus Lupin.

Remus tried watching another boy expertly twist the mishapen ribbon into a bow fastened tightly about his neck. It looked even more uncomfortable than a tie. How he wished he could take his wand out and fasten it magically. He sighed. He knew that it was pushing his luck even to be in possession of it tonight.

"You must be Marissa Fletcher's mystery escort," the boy he had been watching said, noticing his scrutiny. Remus jumped in slight surprise. "We knew that she was bringing someone from her exclusive boarding school. Tell me, is it just a brilliance thing or is it a special talent that makes them seek you out?"

Remus recovered his composure, "I'd rather say that it was a special talent, being rather out of the ordinary even," he replied.

"You say with perfect modesty," the boy said in a friendly way as he let out a bark of laughter almost like Sirius's. "Then again, anyone with Marissa Fletcher on his arm can afford to feel proud of himself."

"You know her well then?" Remus said in agreement.

The boy laughed again. "Of my early memories of these functions, the only pleasants ones are due to some of the trouble that she caused. Never improper, of course. That was what was so remarkable about her. Anyone can throw the rules and norms out the window, but she stirred up trouble within all the restrictions and boundaries."

"And she hasn't lost any steam at school, I can assure you," Remus said with an affectionate smile for his mischievious friend.

"If she hadn't gone off to that school..." the boy trailed off, returning abruptly to the mirror to adjust his impeccable appearance.

"What?" Remus prompted, not quite willing to let go of even this slightly uncomfortable conversation just yet.

"It's just that we all thought that it would be one of us who escorted her when she came out into society," the boy replied. "I suppose it's rather a matter of soul-preservation. We all know that we're destined for semi-arranged marriages in this crowd. I suppose we all just thought that Marissa would be a rather pleasant match. Not a conniver or a brainless socialite or a brilliant woman willing to do little with her life. There are other such women out there and even here tonight, but Marissa would have been..."

"There's just no one quite like her," Remus finished for him. The boy looked at him for a moment with an expression he couldn't read on his face.

"I suppose that's just it," he agreed carefully.

* * *

"James, take off that ridiculous face paint," Sirius snapped in annoyance. "You've been watching too many muggle spy shows. This isn't some stupid game or prank at Hogwarts. This is the real deal."

"It's not like we've never played with fire before, Padfoot," James said though he obligingly wiped off the face paint. "It's not like we haven't broken the law before either."

"Yes, but it was always our own lives we were risking, not anybody else's," Sirius snapped back at him. "This is entirely different from anything else we've ever pulled before. Whether you want to admit it or not."

"Just stick with the plan, Padfoot, and we'll be all right."

"You don't know that, Prongs. And for once I'm entitled to be scared about that."

* * *

Remus and Marissa met in the hallway between the two great changing rooms. Marissa took one look at him and burst out laughing. Remus blushed from embarassment at his inability to put the tuxedo together and how very startlingly pretty she looked in the elegant white dress that fell to her feet, clear slippers that looked like glass just peaking out from under them.

Remus didn't know anything about dresses, he couldn't even figure out his own clothes, so he had no idea if it were a particularly beautiful dress in itself, but it suited her perfectly. It was simple but also oddly spunky. Marissa was still laughing, largely unaware of his awed scrutiny.

"Come here, I'll fix it for you," she said when she could speak again. She walked over to him and took the cumberbund from around his neck and, her eyes still dancing with laughter, slipped it around his waist. She then applied herself to the tie, Remus standing still as if afraid to move lest this moment vanish. She made quite a show of straightening his tie until it was just perfect. "There we go, you look much more presentable," she said with a warm smile as she looked up at him.

Something caught in Remus's throat at being so closes to her. "You should wear your hair down," he heard himself saying. He reached his hands up tentatively to her head.

Marissa laughed and made to snatch his hand away, "Remus, there's so much hairspray in my hair right now I'm not sure that I'll ever get it down."

"No, just a minute," he said and with one graceful movement of his hands her natural curls fell free of their tethers and bounced lightly down around her shoulders. The golden curls looked stunning against the white dress. Remus smiled down at her in appreciation.

"How did you do that?" she whispered in surprise, touching a strand of soft hair.

"Sirius," Remus replied with a shrug that didn't break the temporary spell. He worried that she surely must see the emotions so carelessly displayed on his face (for those who knew how to look), but at the moment he couldn't quite care. "He learned all the tricks for styling his hair. Why do you think he always looks so good?"

Marissa let out one of her lilting laughs that tugged at his heartstrings. "James should have tried them," she said with a mischievious look in her eyes.

Remus's heart sank. James. He must not forget that even for a moment. She belonged to James. He couldn't ignore that. Ever. Or moments like this happened, moments of acute disappointment and longing to have a moment back that had never really existed. "Oh he tried," Remus said, recovering himself. Marissa blinked at the abrupt change of his tone, however. "Just didn't do him much good. The Potter hair is very stubborn."

Marissa smiled slightly. "As stubborn as its bearers," she replied. Then she too abruptly switched her tone, "You're sure about this? Wearing my hair down?"

"Yes," Remus said firmly.

"All right," she said, finally taking a step back, "I'll trust you."

* * *

"Remind me never to trust you or Marissa Fletcher ever again," Sirius said as they waited outside in the dark of an alley across the street from the house where Regulus was walking up the driveway. "I'm not listening to either of you ever again after you talked me into this."

"Don't be such a pansy, Padfoot, just make the call," James said.

"We have to wait until we actually see him using magic or they'll just redirect us to the Muggle police the minute we tell them the neighborhood," Sirius snapped. "Let's just hope that he breaks in."

"He's knocking," James said.

"I can see as well as you can, Prongs."

"Well what now, do we have to wait for signs of magic?" James asked. They looked at each other. They both knew that it would be too late before they had cause.

"They're opening the door, they're letting him in!" Sirius cried in surprise.

"Look!" James said, pointing at dark figures moving swiftly up the street toward the open door. "It's an attack. Let's go!"

"Where!" Sirius shouted, springing after James who was already running down the street, ducking in and out of shadows to keep from the notice of the men sweeping up toward the muggle house and its innocent victim.

"The Leaky Cauldron!" James shouted back. "We can't fight all of them, we need the Aurors!"

When they ran full out into the pub and collapsed against the bar, Tom was too surprised to throw the underage wizards out. "Floo powder, man! As fast as you can!" James gasped out, Sirius already running toward the fire, knocking any ahead of him out of his way.

"Young master Potter, what are you doing here?" Tom asked in surprise.

"Not now, Tom! We've got to get word to the Ministry! Death Eaters are attacking a house!" Even before the word Death Eaters, Tom was scrambling for the floo pouch just from the urgency in James's voice. He handed it to James who immediately threw it across the room to Sirius who had no sooner caught it than thrown some on the fire.

James threw himself across the room just as Sirius stuck his head into the glowing green fire. "The Ministry of Magic! Auror Headquarters!" he shouted in such a rush it was a miracle that the Floo network understood.

"Hello! Hello! Someone!" He bellowed the moment that his head stopped spinning and the darkness beyond the fireplace began to sit still. There were vague shadows in this room, the one beyond it was lighted. "HELLO! It's an emergency! HELP!" he hollered even louder.

At long last, a dark shape came into view. "You! Help! Over here!"

"I know, I see you," a voice Sirius recognized vaguelly as Fabian Prewett's replied. "Is that Sirius Black?"

"Yes, and you've got to listen to me. Death Eaters are attacking a muggle house." Sirius shouted.

Fabian's face went from curious to disturbed. He dropped down on a knee and look into the fire at Sirius's earnest face swimming in the flames. "You're sure?" he asked in a low intense voice that made it quite clear why he had been chosen to be an Auror.

"We followed my brother," Sirius said, his eyes wide with the need to convey that which spells prevented him from saying.

Fabian understood but asked quickly, "But he's so young. Even at your age, very few are recruited."

"They were trying to recruit me," Sirius said, his face contorting with the need to make him understand.

"What exactly did you see, Sirius?" Fabian asked. "The Dark Mark? Did they use magic? Pull out their wands?"

"How do you know they were Death Eaters?" Gideon asked, dropping down beside his brother from out of nowhere.

"Look, I can't tell you. Please just believe me!" Sirius cried in frustration. "James and I can't fight that many by ourselves! We need Aurors now! They could be dying as we speak."

"I know, Sirius, but we need cause to go," Fabian said in a tortured voice.

"Then you at least!" Sirius shouted at him. "They've already been at 15 Fourth street for ten minutes now!"

Gideon gave a strangled cry and dove forward. "Get home now," Fabian barked at him. "Gideon, I've got to punch out and grab my distress signal, do _not_ go without me. The last thing we need is to go in their unadvised. It's probably a trap set for us."

"What's going on?" Sirius cried in surprise, it even overpowering his relief.

"It's Lizzie's house!" Gideon cried in anger and anguish.

* * *

"It's Marissa Jane Fletcher, daughter of Jerome and Olivia Fletcher, escorted by Remus Lupin," the announcer, who sounded uncommonly like an auctioneer, annouced as Marissa and her father reached the top of the stairs. She descended them regally, looking as stately and elegant as her mother had. Although most fathers gave their daughters a peck on the cheek before handing them over to the escort, Jerome Fletcher offered her a smile. Marissa understood that that was effort enough for him.

She slid her arm in Remus's who led her to the area where all the other girls were standing with their dates. Other girls came down the stairs and took their places. At the end, all the girls stepped forward and curtsied prettily as the assembly clapped their appreciation. They then took the hand that their escorts held out and the music swept up as they began to dance.

"So that's it? No inspection? You have to show them your teeth? Let them run through your hair checking for lice?" Remus asked, spinning her out before she could answer.

When she spun back in, she replied with that twinkle in her eye, "Not until later."

"Ah, respecting the moment, I see," Remus replied, pulling her closer than the strict rules of courtesy required. She did not protest.

"Yes, this one is rather nice," she whispered.

* * *

"Well?" James demanded as Sirius yanked his head out of the fire.

"Give the floo back to Tom, we've got to go," Sirius said, diving for the door. "Here's a galleon, keep the change!" he said as he threw a gold coin at the innkeeper.

"What's the matter, Padfoot, you look as if you've seen a ghost!" James said as he followed Sirius out into the night.

"It's Lizzie Walker they're attacking. That's why she let him in. Gideon and Fabian have gone. It's got to be a trap. We've got to get there whatever Fabian said," Sirius replied.

They came to the conclusion at the same moment and, taking the risk near a wizard establishment in the incomplete darkness of the city of London, transformed without breaking stride.

* * *

Remus and Marissa stole out of the grand hall, his hand in hers as she pulled in along to the lawn just beyond it. She kicked off her shoes and twirled around with her feet in the grass. Remus laughed and loosened his bowtie. They could still hear the orchestra playing from where they were. Now, however, the stars were their ceiling and the trees and grass their ballroom.

They were laughing and breathless, "I was about to punch that last one who tried to cut in," Remus said.

"So was his date, did you see her face? Either him or me," Marissa laughed.

"Well, I have you all to myself out here. Care to dance, Lady Fletcher?" Remus asked, sweeping a graceful bow.

"As I'm unlikely to have an reputation left after this little escape, I might as well make the most of it," Marissa said with a smile as she took his offered hand. They danced cheek to cheek, both resting in the closeness of the other. They danced under the stars, never leaving each other's touch, a celebration of all the freedom and beauty of youth.

Somewhere very different in the same city, those only two years older were learning that youth had fled these unhappy times and coming to believe that such beauty had forsaken their war-stricken world.

Gideon and Fabian had come in blasting, but they had been expected and were quickly disarmed. "Check to see if your brother's gone home or if he's planning on playing the hero more tonight," one of the masked men said to the shortest of them.

He went to the door, "Nothing stirring but a stray. They couldn't have made their way back yet running."

"Stray what?" the man, who was obviously the leader, snapped.

"Stray dog. It's in the yard, but it's not even barking. Just looks curious," the boy replied.

The leader snorted. "Some watchdog you're little girlfriend has," he snarled in Gideon's face. As Gideon's face contorted in anger, a chandelier dropped abruptly from the ceiling and the leader had to dodge out of the way just in time. The young man's eyes were smoldering dangerously. Outnumbered and wandless or not, the Prewetts would not go down easily. Especially not with that determined set of their features and the woman Gideon loved on the line.

"Where is she?" he snarled at the leader, looking him right in the ice cold blue eyes that showed behind the mask. There was no fear, only determination, in his voice. It was strong and brave and in control. He was dangerous and powerful as he had never been before, because before he had never had need of it.

"The shed," he replied simply, as if the situation amused him. "Let's join her shall, we? Give all the Muggles along the street a real show."

"Where are the Walkers?" Fabian demanded, not daring to catch Gideon's eye and hoping that he caught on.

You could almost see the malicious smile on the leader's face through the mask as turned and pointed to the two still bodies one lying spread across an armchair and the other strewn along the floor. Fabian and Gideon faced their direction, but the moment his gaze had left them, they dove at the Death Eaters closest to them and wrenched the wands from their shocked hands. The cackles cut short instantly as the two now armed brothers faced them, wands trained on the leader.

"Let her go or I swear I don't care if we go down with you, I'll kill you," Gideon hissed at him as all the rest of the group quickly aimed their wands at Gideon and Fabian.

"The first of you that fires better be damn good at ducking," Fabian roared to the others who looked ready to end the stalemate. "Unless you think you can hit us both, and I warn you, anyone who says a word except about Lizzie Walker will be the first to die."

"You're still outnumbered, and even if you kill us, the one guarding the shed will kill her before you can reach her," the leader said in a calm voice though it no longer sounded amused. It sounded like a hunter regarding its trapped prey.

"Bring down the whole thing on her head!" he shouted in a taunt as he moved his wand away from the brothers and directed it at the house support. The reaction of the rest of the house was almost instantaneous as the room sagged and began to fall toward them.

The Prewetts leapt apart, firing randomly to cover themselves as they shot toward the window, showering glass on the lawn as they burst through. The Death Eaters Apparated with pops all around them in a circle. The boys stood, their backs against each other, turning slowly to train their wands on each of their enemies in turn. "Here she is, Gideon, say hello."

"Gideon!" Lizzie shrieked, her voice slightly muffled as it came through the door. Another masked Death Eater stood there, not joining the fight, merely training his wand on the shed calmly. Everyone knew that he was the only one who kept the stalemate, for the Prewetts would not fire as long as he stood there, protected from harm by his fellows and ready to crush Lizzie Walker with the weight of the brick building and heavy stone roof.

"Lizzie! I'm here! We'll get you out, just don't panic!" Gideon shouted at her, glaring at the leader's face and stopping his rotation around the circle. Gideon was facing down the leader and Fabian was covering the rest of them. They both felt defeat like icewater in their bellies but refused to give in to it.

"Really? And just how will you manage that?" the leader drawled carelessly, his eyes never leaving Gideon's. "The moment you fire on one of us, the others will pull the shed down on top of that poor little trapped Mudblood. Or do you really think that you can disarm us all at once?

"Now, let's be reasonable. You know you can't save your little girlfriend by fighting. You can die in the attempt very bravely and very nobly, or you can save her life," he said, hissing like the serpent to Eve. "By surrendering to us. We'll let her go if you and Fabian come with us, no wands, no tricks, and no returning. Might as well be honest about that part. What's one Mudblood to the secrets Fabian harbors and the personal joy seeing you dead would give the Dark Lord? Well, It's nothing to me, but it seems to mean something to you. What do you say, will you trade yourself for It?"

"Don't Gideon!" Lizzie shouted.

"Will those be the last words she ever speaks, Gideon?" he mocked him. "It's entirely your choice. Just lower your wand."

The choice warred within him, but, as on that fateful day in Hogsmeade, it did not seem like a choice at all. Not really. He knew what he would choose from the outset. The only thing now was to make sure that he was not betrayed. He doubted he could trick them.

But Gideon never got to declare his fateful choice, for Lizzie's voice rang out in the night as she screamed desperately, "They let me see who they are!"

Instantly, as if this had been the signal that everyone was waiting for, everyone attacked at once. Gideon and Fabian understood instantly what that implied. They would never let Lizzie survive this night. They would not trade her or let her be saved. They had never intended that she do anything but die. There would be no deal and the only way that she would possibly be permitted to live was if all of them were stopped.

Spells and hexes were flying all around the yard so thickly that it was impossible to tell who was winning the fight. What the two boys hiding precariously in the shadows (lest they miss their chance to catch the Death Eaters off guard) saw distinctly was limited to the sudden abrupt collapse of the shed in which Lizzie Walker was trapped.

Nodding to each other briefly, they each set their aim on two of the Death Eaters and carefully picked them off with stunners. They ran in different directions before in the confusion the others could notice where those spells had come from.

With the Prewetts fighting like heroes, desperate ones, and James and Sirius roaming around the perimeter taking careful aim at one and then the other of their enemies, it wasn't long before the leader was the only one left standing. He dispatched the brothers with one flick of his wrist, rendering Fabian motionless on the ground, unable to move though his eyes were spread wide to watch the scene unfolding as the leader circled the now wandless Gideon whom he had forced to his knees.

"Is this your wand, by any chance, Prewett?" he drawled in a deathly whisper. "That would have poetic justice, would it not? But not enough, not enough for one such as you. It will do for Fabian. By his brother's own wand. Let the wizarding press make of that what they may. But first," he flung the wand to the ground and pulled out of his robes the last thing that any of them had expected.

It was a gun. A plain, black, metal, Muggle gun. "A muggle weapon for a muggle-lover," he said, placing the gun up to his head and preparing to fire.

"Expelliarmus!" James shouted, jumping out of the shadows and disarming the leader whose ice blue eyes widened in shock as he was thrown back. James, wand out, advanced on him. Sirius came behind him, bending to try to remove the binding curse to release the Prewett brothers. As he stood over the Death Eater, James's face contorted with a series of emotions so quickly that it was impossible to tell what each individual one was. "I hoped it would be you. I hoped that I recognized your voice," he whispered. "I so hoped this day would come, when I would see this very different look in your eyes, _Malfoy._"

"You'd do better to try to catch smoke," Lucius replied. "Or better yet, the boy," he said, nodding toward a Death Eater who had indeed stirred and made to run for help.

"Sirius!" James bellowed back behind him, not taking his eyes off of Lucius. Sirius was already off after him, wand out. The figure apparently hadn't bothered to grab its wand when it ran, for Sirius tackled him to the ground when he reached him and held the wand to his throat unchallenged by a hex or curse.

"Not so easily will you escape this time, Malfoy. You are out of allies and have at your throat the wand of a wizard with every motive to kill you as you lie there. And I will too. For what you did to Lizzie. For what you tried to do to Marissa. I can kill for the likes of you," James said in a steady, furious voice.

"I don't doubt it, James Potter" Lucius said calmly without sarcasm or doubt though still plainly contemptuous of James himself if not his threat.

"Prongs! Help!" the voice, so like Sirius's, startled him and made him look away. He did not even have a chance to see that it was Regulus pinned under Sirius who had yelled before he caught Malfoy's dive for the nearest wand out of the corner of his eye. It was also clear that he would be too late to stop him.

"ACCIO WANDS!" the real Sirius yelled, his wand stretched back behind him. The Prewett wands, James's, and all the Death Eaters' wands shot toward him. However, Lucius Malfoy grabbed for one of them and snatched it out of the air even as it zoomed toward Sirius. He had Disapparated before anyone could blink.

As the wands hit Sirius, he lost his grip on his brother, and Regulus too struggled free and grabbed one of the waiting wands and Disapparated.

Sirius, panting, dejectedly picked up one of the wands and released the Prewetts from the binding spells, "Finite Incantatem." His voice held defeat.

Fabian sprang up, "Collect the wands and bind the bodies," he commanded instantly. "Thank you," he added grimly as Sirius tossed him a wand.

Gideon, collapsed to the ground and crawled to the pile of rubble. "I will return with Healers," Fabian said in the same dead, defeated tone that the others used. Gideon was pushing aside the bricks and broken stones desperately to uncover Lizzie. "I'll return soon, Gideon," he said. Then, with a pop, he too Disapparated.

James and Sirius quickly collected the wands and bound the prisoners as Gideon tried to find his beloved. They stood aloof uncertainly as he, with a great cry, pushed the bricks off of her limp body and looked at the blood trickling down from her head onto her deathly pale white face.

"Lizzie, oh Lizzie," he cried, wrapping his arms gingerly but desperately around her head and shoulders, the only part of her he had yet uncovered. He leaned over her, staring desperately into her eyes for signs of life. They were there, but weak and the pain in them was almost unbearable. He pushed the bricks off her chest and made to move to free her legs when her hand weakly reached up to stop his arm.

"Gideon," she whispered and blood filled her mouth and choked her in her throat and lungs. "Gideon, I...I love you," she whispered with difficulty.

"Don't speak, don't speak. Fabian's gone for the Healers. They'll make you as good as new. You'll see. Just hold on until they get here. Just hold on a little longer," he told her desperately, tightening his hold on her as if it would keep her clinging to life. "Everything will be all right, Lizzie. You'll see."

"No, love," she said, slowly and tiredly bringing her hand up to his face. Her other lay limply at her side, broken. "No it won't."

"Don't talk like that, don't Lizzie, don't," Gideon begged, his voice betraying that he was crying. "You'll be fine. They'll be here any minute and you'll be okay."

Lizzie tried to smile, but it was too hard. "I'll miss you. Don't be too long. Get them - " She gave a great wheeze that left blood spilling out of her mouth and down her chin. Gideon immediately wiped it away with his robe sleeve. "Make them pay for parting us like this."

"You're not going anywhere!" Gideon protested in anguish.

"I'm sorry - " more blood. "I'm sorry I didn't get to marry you." Then she choked on the blood and this time, her eyes went glassy and her hand limp.

"No," Gideon cried, grabbing her hand and pressing it desperately to his face. "No, Lizzie. Come back. Come back, please. I need you. Please." He put his head down against hers and sobbed as he held her too him. "Please come back Lizzie. Please. Please. I love you. Please."

The Healers and Aurors arrived a few shell-shocked moments later. The only sounds that split the night air were the dry heaving sobs of Gideon Prewett as he mourned his beloved. James and Sirius stood witnessing the pain of this man feeling like boys being forced to grow up in the space of only those few minutes. Surely they would never witness anything as powerful as this. Gideon Prewett mourning his precious Lizzie.

Somehow getting out of classes, pulling pranks, and fighting with the Slytherins would never be able to mean the same thing to them after this battle with true evil that was greater than they. The rejection of Lily Evans would never wound him the same way after seeing this true grief for a lost love that would never return. No recriminations would ever affect them like the self-blame of this man grown old before his time.

Nothing would ever be the same again. How could it? Lizzie Walker was dead.

* * *

©KatyMulvaney12/8/2004 to 12/19/2004  
**Posted:**


	14. The Moment Everything Changed

**Chapter Fourteen  
The Moment That Everything Changed**

"Does anyone else consider it suicide to be taking a group picture?" Gideon Prewett said in the gruff way that everyone had eventually become accustomed to hearing him speak. The only ones who talked as bluntly as he did, emotionlessly and brusquely, were Arabella and Argus Filch. For a while they had been the only ones comfortable around this very altered version of cheerful, happy Head Boy. Fabian was worse, but he had not joined the Order of the Phoenix. 

"No more than sending Voldemort a list with all of our names and addresses," Argus Filch said with the biting sarcasm that those around him had long ago grown used to. 

"It's not quite that bad," Arabella replied tartly for no better reason than to disagree with her brother. It had been Atlanta's idea of a joke to seat them so near to each other. "It's not like anyone outside of the Order can see the picture." 

"Unless an Order member tells them what it is," Argus clarified biting. "So we're basically safe until we get infiltrated." 

"If and when we're infiltrated, a Christmas picture will be the least of our worries. I'm beginning to think that Voldemort had one good idea," Gideon said. "Not even his most trusted Death Eaters know everyone in his ranks. Only he himself knows them all." 

"Dumbledore's all about collaboration and unity, how can we be unified if we don't even know who we're working with?" Arabella asked glaring daggers at her brother, clearly not as firm a believer in unity as she was proclaiming, at least where it concerned Argus. 

"People would trust Dumbledore whether or not they knew their fellows," Moody, the taciturn old Auror, growled as if that settled the argument. "And when are you planning on completing your training, Prewett? What have you been doin' all these years that's kept ya from it?" he demanded poking a jagged finger that had obviously been broken before at the younger man. 

"I'm not going to be an Auror, Alastor," Gideon said calmly. "But I can assure you that I have been working most diligently against Voldemort." 

The man sniffed. "I see. Can't say I don't envy you at times. No dratted administration to ask please and thank you before you go after the bastards where they live. You could've gotten in a lot of trouble under a different Minister for some of those stunts you've pulled though." He sniffed his disapproval of either Gideon or the Ministry or both. 

"I thought you didn't know what I've been up to 'all these years,' Alastor," Gideon said in a grumpy way. 

Moody humphed and turned to the side. "Ah, Albus. The man of the hour." 

Though the man sat down in Albus Dumbledore's seat, it was clear upon second glance that it was not Albus though undoubtedly a Dumbledore. "Aberforth," Gideon nodded from Moody's other side. 

The jolly Aberforth was decidedly out of place at this gruff end of the table. He left after only a few minutes chatter. Though they were less cheerful than those that swarmed around them, desperately grasping at this stolen happy moment, they were no more or less determined to make the world a place of beauty again. They who seemed to see so little left in it were by no means less grimly determined to die for the chance that it would be a little better for their efforts. Those lost in darkness were the most eager to preserve the light. 

They who made the least effort to smile for the camera were as determined as the rest of the brave and brilliant members of the Order of the Phoenix to give the world a little more to smile about. Whether they were there because of what they had lost or what they stood to lose, they would fight for the cause with the same heart. It wasn't happiness that the Order was meant for; it was a purpose. For now, it would do. For now, it was enough. 

For all of them in that room, this moment was one of many to come though few existed in their world now. That was a promise and a duty. Whether it was doomed or not, only time would tell. 

Elizabeth Catherine Walker was buried in a small cemetery out in the country where her grandparents lived. Mr and Mrs Walker were buried alongside their daughter in the family plots. The funeral was held on a drizzling, wet, gloomy day that reflected everyone's mood perfectly. 

"This is wrong," Marissa whispered as she stood with Lily and the Marauders, an uneasy truce called for the horrid event. It seemed that half of Gryffindor house and many other Hogwarts students, most from Lizzie's year, had shown up at the graveside service. All the prefects were represented, even the Slytherins. "Gideon should have been able to bury her in the Prewett cemetery." 

"If you want wrong, Riss, think that Lizzie shouldn't be dead at all," Lily said morosely. She hadn't known Lizzie as well as Remus and Marissa, but the older girl's death had still had a profound impact on Lily Evans. In many ways, Lily saw herself in the commanding, admired, strong-willed and powerful Muggleborn witch. Lizzie had succeeded where many had expected her to fail and scored several points for Muggleborns in general. It was wrong for her to be cut down only a few weeks out of Hogwarts, so arbitrarily too. Like she was nothing. 

The two lionesses huddled together in the misting rain that soaked you almost as well as a thunderstorm. "Somebody should go say something to Gideon," Marissa said after a moment. "I'm going to go talk to her grandparents." 

Marissa moved swiftly away, glad to have something purposeful to do today of all days. Lily stood there looking as if she would fall over bereft of the mutual support she and Marissa had been giving each other during the ceremony. She wished that that dratted flute player would stop playing Taps like that. 

Then Lily noticed that the player was Fabian and understood why he would want to have something to occupy him. Did he see Anna and Micheal in the coffin that held his brother's love? Murdered just as his wife and child had been? Cruelly and carelessly. If Gideon had taken the blame for that night onto his shoulders, what would he do with this one? 

"You look as if you're about to fall over," James said, taking her arm to steady her. There was a hint of disapproval in his voice. 

Lily jerked her arm out of his grasp. "Don't try to put the moves on me today of all days, Potter," she hissed angrily at him. 

James just stared at her for a moment with disgust on his face. He dropped her arm and moved towards Gideon who was standing a little apart from all the others, simply staring at the coffin. As a holdover from the days they had been friends, Lily realized that his wordlessness meant that he was furious at her comment. He was hurt too. Lily shook her head. She wasn't supposed to care how Potter felt. He certainly didn't deserve any of her thoughts today. 

Peter touched her shoulder and she smiled at him absently. She looked around at the gloomy landscape over his head. It was a dismal place to be your final resting place, but then a graveyard was supposed to be cold. Hearts were broken here, hardened, and frozen. 

"Did you go to school with Lizzie?" her grandmother asked Marissa politely. 

"Yes, I was a prefect under her," Marissa said with all the warmth of their friendship in her voice. "I set her up with Gideon, actually. Helped her to get him to stop denying his feelings for her. Helped her pick out her wedding dress just a few days ago. Then Gideon walks in and sees her in it and ruins it." 

The grandmother smiled, "Was he good for her?" she asked, looking over a the grim, speechless man who did not seem at all warm and good and worthy of Lizzie to her now. 

Marissa sighed, also looking mournfully on what Gideon had become in the space of only a few days. "He loved her so dearly, and she loved him. He's carried a terrible guilt around for months, taking blame for something that wasn't his fault, your granddaughter was trying to make him see that," Marissa answered her. 

"Yes, that was my Lizzie," she said, making a valiant attempt to smile. 

"Prefect meetings will be terrible now with her," Marissa said. "We were the only two Muggleborns. We had so much fun teasing the purebloods with our Muggle phrases. They hadn't any idea what we were talking about." The mischievous glint in her eyes was considerably dulled today. 

Lizzie's grandmother laughed briefly, but it helped. "I remember on Valentine's Day when she sang - " 

"My Lizzie sing?" 

"Well, not sing. You see, none of us could sing, so we lip-synced with real singers behind a curtain," Marissa said with a small smile for that memory. 

The grandmother laughed again. "Yes, I can just imagine that. She was happy at Hogwarts?" 

"I think so," Marissa replied. "She was a great witch and a great woman, we could all see that. We all admired her for what she was." 

"And what was she?" the grandmother asked curiously. 

"Noble," Marissa answered simply. Lizzie's grandmother nodded her head in agreement and thanks. She took Marissa's hand in both of hers when they said goodbye. 

James had far less success with Gideon Prewett. He had no idea what to say so settled on saying nothing. He stood there beside Gideon companionably. The older boy, no man, did not say anything either. James was beginning to think that perhaps he was simply too polite or too indifferent to tell James he wanted him to leave. 

Marissa's approach unfroze his tongue, "Hello, Gideon," she said in a quiet voice. 

"Why did you do this, Marissa?" Gideon asked in a low, gruff voice. "Why did you have to keep throwing her at me? Why did you have to get us together?" his voice was angry and his face contorted briefly with it and his pain. "Why couldn't you let me protect her from this? This is exactly what I didn't want to happen to her! Why couldn't you have let me save her from this?" It was the first time that Gideon had looked anyone in the eyes since Lizzie had died, and it was anger that shone through them. 

Marissa weathered it calmly, holding a small black umbrella over her head. "If you hadn't pushed us together, she wouldn't be dead," he said as he stared her down. 

Marissa let a long moment go by before she spoke. It was in a calm, reasonable, almost unemotional tone that she told him slowly, "That's probably not true, actually, Gideon. Everyone knew how you felt about her. We could all see it. They still would have known that you would come to save her. They still knew how much killing her would hurt you. The only thing that it changed was the time before it happened." 

James could see Marissa's words registering with Gideon. He could see in Gideon's face that he was warring with the idea but also seeing the truth in it. Then his features became closed again. "I still don't know if I can ever forgive you," he told her. "Because you could be wrong. I won't ever forgive myself either, for being the death of her." 

"Lizzie was a powerful witch. She would never have joined him, and she was highly visible, a Muggleborn too. Voldemort would have tried to kill her eventually," Marissa told him in the same slow, reasonable tone of voice. 

"But she's gone now," Gideon said bluntly. "And she's not coming back. We'll never know if I could have saved her, and that will always haunt me." He moved to walk away before Marissa could summon up any more keys out of his prison of self-blame. 

When he was past her, Marissa closed her eyes and bowed her head in mourning for the happy, cheerful Gideon who had been so alive with passion and purpose. Now he seemed as dead in spirit as Lizzie was in body. 

Suddenly, she drew in her breath sharply and almost fell. James caught her elbow and helped her stay upright. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly. She nodded her head rapidly up and down, biting her lip slightly. "Are you sure?" he asked, unconvinced. 

Again she shook her head just as rapidly, her eyes squeezed shut now. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just can't - I can't catch my breath," she was trying to take deep breaths now, the force of the air being pushed desperately in and out clearly audible. The umbrella fell out of her hands and her legs look ready to give out under her. "Oh not now," she moaned, shaking her head as if to clear it of whatever was troubling her. 

"I need to go home," she whispered, opening her eyes to look at James whose eyes were clouded with concern. 

He nodded and put her arm around his shoulder as he helped her walk out of the cemetery to where the portkeys had been set up for the younger wizard guests attending the service. It scared him how heavily she leaned on him and yet still seemed about to stumble. She smiled weakly at him when he turned to look at her in concern. He did not miss the way she was controlling her breathing. She squeezed his head in reassurance, but there was worryingly little strength in her hand. 

Remus watched them go, seeing the tender way that James was walking with Marissa. She took his hand and held it for a moment in a loving gesture. She was looking at him with great emotion in her eyes. His entire attention was likewise focused on her. Remus felt something in his heart cave in. After the Ball, he had almost dared to entertain the hope that she... He had never thought that he would have to see her with James. James was far too in love with Lily, but he was looking at her now in such a way that must be what Marissa had always dreamed of. He turned away. He was almost ashamed of having such a sorrow on a day like this, but wasn't this day about lost love? Love denied? 

"Thank you, James," she said in a whisper, her face twisting into a grim smile as she took the yellow rose from the pile. It had been Lizzie's favorite flower. 

"Miss Fletcher, Mr Potter," Dumbledore said, coming up behind them. "Are you both well?" 

James was about to answer for Marissa when she replied, "I just need to get home, Headmaster." 

The crystal blue eyes watched her for a long moment behind the half-moon spectacles. Then he nodded. "I can send you, Miss Fletcher. Are you ready?" She nodded, standing up as straight as she could manage to steel herself for the trip. "All right. Ready..._Portus."_

There was a jerk at her navel and then she was flying by with the passing distance only flashes of color that were gone even before the eye could take them in. The next moment, she landed in her foyer. She did not have the strength to keep her feet under her. She fell to the ground, calling for help. 

Back at the cemetery, James was regarding the Headmaster with all his worry for Marissa and the grief he felt about that night showing on his face. There was no point hiding it from Dumbledore. He saw it anyway. If only they had thought to take out that Death Eater with his wand trained on the shed. That might have made the difference. Lizzie might still be alive. Gideon might not be the wreck that he was now. 

"You and Mr Black are both staying at your home, Mr Potter?" Dumbledore asked. James nodded. "I have discussed putting additional protections on the house with your parents after your and Mr Black's involvement in the events last week. I must ask that for the time being you do not leave the property." 

Again, James nodded. "I am very proud of you, Mr Potter," he said. "Few have the opportunity to learn so young if they have the courage to do what they must in such situations." 

"I didn't do enough, Professor," James said at last. "We were hiding in the bushes. We knew which one would kill Lizzie the instant the fighting broke out. We could have aimed at him instead of any random Death Eater." 

"Hindsight is often perfect even for those of us with glasses, Mr Potter," Dumbledore said simply. "There are so many could have beens and should have beens in our world already, Mr Potter. You may do well to limit yours. They bring nothing but regret. It saves no one and certainly does not have the power to bring back the dead. That is the lesson that I wish Mr Prewett would learn." 

"Which, Professor?" 

"Both, Mr Potter. Both. This is a sad day. Let's not make it worse by taking that which does not belong to us on our shoulders," Dumbledore said. "There is already too much of that happening in this graveyard and in our world when we have much more to do with our energies. Things that would honor the dead among us more than any misplaced blame." 

Snape lay on his back on top of his bed. There was little else to do at the Snape Manor that was safe, especially since he couldn't seem to read any longer. Everything he did made him thing of that presumptuous, stupid little Mudblood and what she had said. He had surrendered to the fact that he wasn't getting anything done now. That left him absolutely nothing to do but lay here avoiding the worst of the heat and shooting down flies. 

Dreadful nuisance, those dratted flies. Their buzzing was almost as ever-present as damn Marissa Fletcher's words. _I just hope when that day comes,_ What right did she have to be worried about him? _That you don't find you need help after all. _Damn right he didn't need anyone else's help. He had been taking care of himself his entire life. Why would he suddenly start needing someone's help? And from that Mudblood Marissa Fletcher, that insufferable Golden Girl of Gryffindor, the insipid, mindless little flibbertigibbet of an airhead! What could he possibly need her help for? Founding a "celebration of the idiocy that is Potter" club? What did a Potter groupie think that she could offer him? 

Against his will, his mind began to turn over all the things that he knew about Marissa Fletcher. He imagined that each fly was a memory or one of her words that he was erasing from his brain. Wasn't he supposed to be brilliant at Occlumency? Why couldn't he keep a no-account, brainless harpy out of his head? 

It was no good. Over and over his mind played them in an endless stream. 

_Eleven years old and broomsticks had already apparently decided that they hated Severus Snape, just like everyone else. His broomstick had made the conscious decision to disobey him. It was zooming about no matter how he tried to direct it around and then back to the ground. The broomstick refused, rising and flipping, nearly dislodging him from his haphazard perch. Madam Hooch, thinking he was just showing off, blew her whistle repeatedly when he did not return to the ground, but he was powerless to obey her. _

_Casting a longing look at the ground, he noticed the little Gryffindor blonde trying to tackle Potter to the ground. Sirius was restraining her as she and the redhead argued forcefully with Potter. The blonde Mudblood was the only one trying to wrestle Potter's wand from him... _

_Potter wasn't sparing them a glance... His eyes were trained on _him... 

_That was when he understood. Potter was controlling his broom. Just let him wait until he got down there. He noticed the blonde Mudblood had drawn her wand. _

_Suddenly his broom gave a jerk in the opposite direction. Then it jerk up again then back down until it was bucking wildly and it took everything he had to keep from falling to the ground. _

_Upside down, he saw Hooch rip out her own wand and holler something that gave him back control of his broomstick. _

_He hit the ground, refusing to show the intense relief he felt. He instantly launched himself at Potter, not trusting what illegal curses would come flying out of his mouth if he used his wand. _

_The blonde Muggle was trying to stop him when he shouted at her, "Why didn't you just say 'finite incantatem' if you wanted to help you stupid Mudblood?" He shovedher off of him so roughly that she fell to the ground, a look of startled and pained surprise in her eyes. But she had still tried to help him a week later when Potter and Black made his broom buck before he had even mounted it. _

Snape shot down a fly that dropped to the floor. He tried to close his mind to the memories, but, while nearly impervious to outside intrusion, his Occlumency techniques could not help him keep his own memories locked away from himself. 

_There would be no saving Potter this time. This duel would end well for Snape. Potter was angry and even stupider than usual. He had adrenaline, but Snape had reason and a cool head on his side. Potter was also trying to deflect more curses than was wise. He probably felt obligated to protect the spectators surrounding them. _

_Well, they were stupid prats just like Potter and what prevented them from casting a Shield Charm for themselves? Then, just as he was beginning to warm to his task, he caught sight of a parting in the crowd and the next second that blonde flitterby was sliding to a stop in between them with her arms outstretched. She was facing toward Severus, her eyes flashing with anger at both of them. _

_He had felt himself yank his wand up short before he even realized it. You had to admire how brave - _

Snape sputtered so much he sat up in bed. Brave? What happened to reckless, idiotic, stupid, arrogant, big-headed, presumptuous... He stopped. His heart wasn't in those insults anymore. Now all he could see was that it had been a very brave thing to do. He thought back to the second most recent memory to come into his head. Stupid, ignorant, and ridiculous had been replaced with kind. What the - 

Then Snape realized. OH F! 

"Are you kidding me, Petunia? You've barely talked to me for almost a year and now you want me to cover for you when you go out with that - that little," Lily couldn't believe her ears. "I can't believe that you'd consider staying out with him so late anyway." 

"You mean you think I'd be willing to sleep with him, don't you?" Petunia said, her eyes flashing angrily. Lily's mouth was moving wordlessly up and down like a fish out of water. "First of all, I'm thir-fricking-teen, Lily Evans! Secondly, when the time does come I don't plan on using it as an excuse to break up with a perfectly wonderful guy!" 

"First of all, you consider Vernon Dursley a perfectly wonderful guy?" Lily demanded. "And secondly, what the hell do you mean by that?" 

"What do you think I mean? I mean Dennis Wemmick," Pertunia replied. Again, Lily was rendered absolutely speechless. "I've heard you go on and on to Mom about being unable to find a boyfriend who was willing to stand up to James Potter to date you. Now you find one, who's cute and smart and funny and practically perfect if you can get past all that," she added the last part with a great deal of sarcasm. 

"He expected me to just put out like it - like we - " Lily protested. 

"Were dating?" Petunia challenged. "He _asked_ you, Lily! Asked you after two months of dating. And tell me, did you ever let his hands roam?" Petunia smiled nastily as she looked at Lily's face. "I can see that you did." 

"I'm not that kind of girl! And all the horrible things that he said to me when we broke up," Lily said, suddenly unaccountably desperate for something to qualify her decision. Petunia's opinion surely couldn't be trusted on this matter. Surely her values were not so different from her sister's. Petunia was just saying hurtful things, wasn't she? 

"What did you expect?" Petunia spat back immediately. "You had just dumped him after he came to your parents' house to visit, after he'd endured two months of pranks from your jealous ex-friend, when he was asking you politely for something you had given him every indication that you would not refuse when the time came!" 

Lily found herself sinking down to sit on the foot of her bed, her legs no longer strong enough to support her. "Will no one ever be good enough for you, Lily Evans? Look at James Potter." Lily's head snapped up, her eyes flashing dangerously. "You two were as thick as thieves two years ago. He's handsome for a ragamuffin, I'll admit. You tell me he's smart," Petunia sounded highly skeptical. "You two would make the perfect couple. He might even loosen you up a bit. You, however, just can't seem to get over his one flaw. Nobody's fricking perfect, Lily! Just who are you waiting for? Because let me tell you, you'll never find him!" 

There was a long moment of ringing silence. Then Lily said very quietly, "I still won't cover for you and Vernon tonight, Pet." 

"You will if I threaten to withhold your O.W.L. marks," Petunia said, holding up a thick parchment envelope. 

Lily dove for it, but Petunia danced easily out of her way, prepared for Lily's lunge. "Give it to me or I'll tell Vernon that you accepted something from Owl Post," Lily spat back at her. Since returning from the summer, Lily had realized the Vernon hated any reminder of magic and abnormality with a passion and had convinced Petunia that she must somehow keep herself pure of such things. Lily didn't understand why he still stuck around. Maybe he really did love Petunia. 

_Well, he still doesn't deserve her! _Lily thought fiercely. 

Meanwhile, Lily and Petunia stared each other down like two jealous flowers in a garden trying to make the other wither. "Fine," Petunia snapped, throwing the letter on Lily's bed. She whirled so fast Lily was sure that she'd fall and walked briskly out of the room, calling behind her, "I hope you failed everything." 

"You've letters, boys!" Mrs Potter called up the stairs at her two adopted sons. Receiving no response, she added, "I think they're the O.W.L. scores." Still getting nothing from the two boys, she yelled up the stairs, "I guess I'll just have to open them myself..." 

Slam. Bang. The thudding of steps running down the hall. Then both of them appeared sliding and running down the stairs and shoving each other to get there first. "Thanks, Mom," James said, snatching it out of her hand and running right by. 

"Thanks Mrs Potter," Sirius said, snatching the other one out of her hand just as brusquely as he ran past. Mrs Potter laughed. Gone were the days, she supposed, when Sirius Black would trip over himself trying to be polite and helpful as if one slip-up and they would send him packing back to his parents. 

The boys hit the back yard and both took a flying leap to reach the hole in the floor of the treehouse James and his dad had built when he was little. A judicious little bit of magic had enlarged the treehouse's inner proportions and made it quite a comfortable place to live indeed. 

In almost perfect unison, they ripped open the envelopes and pulled out their scores. It was nothing short of a miracle that neither letter was destroyed. There was a moment of silence as they skimmed the letter for the general report. Then, "Well, Padfoot?" 

"Failed everything, of course. Stupid pureblood that I am," Sirius said with a self-satisfied smirk on his face that belied his answer. "You, Prongs?" 

"Outstanding on everything, naturally. What else did you expect from a genius such as myself?" James replied quickly, too quickly. 

"All right, trade on three?" Sirius asked. 

"One..." 

"Two..." 

They both snatched at each other's letters and ripped them out of the other boy's hands. They skimmed just as excitedly as the competitive spirit in both boys was fully awakened. Slowly, however, their smirk and gleeful expressions fell from their faces. 

At the same instant, they turned and snatched back their own letters and studied them with the same dumbfounded expressions on their faces. They exchanged a grim look. 

Sirius was the first to speak, "It doesn't mean..." He trailed off. 

"They can't prove..." James too trailed off. 

"We didn't..." 

"No one can..." 

"O.W.L.s are..." 

"If they thought we'd..." 

"We'd already be..." 

James shook his head sharply. "McGonagall doesn't put anything past us, but she wouldn't what even the doubt in anyone's mind about this. She wouldn't be able to face Vindictus if he found out." 

"The worst they could do is make us take the tests over," Sirius said. They both stared down at the parchment, glumly contemplating studying all over again. 

There was a very long silence. Then James said abruptly, "So you failed everything, you said?" 

"And you aced everything," Sirius nodded. 

"That's our story." 

"And we're sticking to it!" 

"Great," James said. "Let's go tell Mum so I can go back to being the favorite around here." 

Remus was informed of his scores and berated that they were not straight O's by his parents who had no qualms whatsoever about opening his mail. He got ten Owls. Still respectable, they told him, but not so much as to draw attention or resentment. "You don't want to be the genius oddball just yet, dear." 

Lily was bouncing off the walls after her twelve Owls, and, though her parents tried to be excited, they simply did not understand what that meant for a long while. When Lily took the time to give a rushed explanation, they were congratulatory but still highly confused. 

The instant the owl who delivered them set down, Peter grabbed his letter and ran out of the house, right past his fighting parents who hardly noticed his retreat. 

Marissa's delivery did not go so smoothly. The owl was circling the Muggle hospital trying to find a way inside and to Marissa for hours. It managed to fly in only to be mobbed by irate nurses and doctors. It even, once, made it as far as the loud and frightening look machine that the doctors were using to run tests on Marissa. It gave a sqeak and let itself but hurried out. It returned to Dumbledore at Hogwarts quite irate and only Fawkes could calm it again. 

It was Marissa's only smile the whole day. 

Dumbledore dispatched the scores through the Muggle post. It arrived, by some subtle magic, the same day, but they did not see it for several days. 

After the tests were all done, there was absolutely nothing for Marissa and her father, who looked positively gray, to do but wait for the results. The only thing worse than just sitting there doing nothing, powerless, not knowing, was the fact that they may soon get news that would make their life worse than it felt now. 

A little girl with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes kept looking shyly over at Marissa. Marissa managed a smile for her. That enboldened her, and she made a beeline for where Marissa was sitting beside her statue of a father. "Hello," Marissa said warmly, folding herself down in her chair so that she was eye level with the tiny little girl. 

"Hi," she said, blushing prettily. 

"What's your name?" she asked. 

"Alicia," she said, looking down shyly. 

Marissa smiled at her warmly. "Why hello, Alicia. I'm Marissa." 

"Hi," she said again, nervous and shy. 

"Why, what's that behind your ear?" Marissa cried in mock-dismay that fooled the little Alicia. She pulled a shilling out from behind her ear and showed it to Alicia who gaped up at her with a toothy smile at last. "Is this yours?" Alicia shook her head back and forth, her curls flipping about. "No? Why, there's another one," Marissa cried, pulling one out of her other ear. "Are you sure this isn't yours?" she asked. Again Alicia shook her head. 

Marissa smiled at her. "Well, what am I going to do with these three shillings then?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face. 

"That's two," Alicia said. "One, two," she counted. 

"You forgot this one," Marissa said, pulling one from her nose. She showed it to Alicia whose pretty little eyes widened in awe. She smiled shyly at Marissa and took the shillings from her. 

"Are you my sister?" she asked. Marissa's surprise was real now. 

"Why would you say that?" she asked, leaning forward. 

"You look like me and...you seem like me. You do magic," Alicia answered. Marissa smiled at the irony and the sweetness and naivete of the little girl. 

"Well, Alicia, I do look like you, but I don't think that I'm your sister," she told her. "I always wanted a little sister, though." 

"And I wanted a big sister," Alicia added almost plaintively. 

"Why's that?" Marissa asked her. 

"Because then Mummie wouldn't worry so much," she said with the childish goodwill that those who are grown cannot hope to match. "She'd have another girl to take care of when I have to stay here." 

That tore at every heartstring Marissa had. "That's a very sweet thing to worry about, Alicia, but I have the feeling that you are just enough for your Mummie. I can't think of a sweeter little girl that I've met," Marissa told her, trying to maintain composure. "I bet she'd rather have you than anybody." 

"You bet, Ali," a fairly young woman said, bending down and scooping up the little girl in her arms. "I love you, my dear little girl," she told her daughter. She smiled at Marissa in thanks, then turned back to the little girl in her arms. "Are you ready to go?" 

"I wanna talk to Marissa right now, can we go later?" Alicia asked with a childish pout that could break hearts. 

"I'm sorry sweetie. Say goodbye to Marissa, okay?" 

"Byebye, Marissa," she said obediently. 

Marissa smiled at her, "Byebye Alicia." 

When they were out the door, Jerome Fletcher said to his daughter, "You were wonderful with her. Just like your mother was with little kids." 

Marissa was startled but did not want to jepordize this fragile rapport with her father. "I guess that's why I still remember her," Marissa said. "She was so wonderful." 

"For a long time I thought that you might be too young," he said in a flat voice. 

"Not remember Livy Fletcher? I don't think that that's possible," Marissa said with a smile. She noticed that they were both facing out toward the waiting room rather than looking at each other. 

"Sometimes you're more like her than I can handle," he told her frankly. 

There was a very long silence. "That's why you need to not be - " but her father never finished as they were called in at that precise moment. 

As they stood, they exchanged tense, nervous looks as they turned to each other with paling faces. When they reached the doctors office, they both sat down cautiously, breating deeply to calm their nerves. Marissa closed her eyes in a moment and visibly relaxed her tensed muscles. 

Jerome Fletcher was regarding the doctor who was not looking at them as he took his seat at the desk and shuffled his papers around. "Okay, what's wrong?" he demanded. 

"I'm afraid I have some discouraging news about Marissa's condition," he said calmly. 

"Condition!" he exploded in protest. "Since when does she have a condition? What is her condition?" 

"You mean...I thought this was a damage assessment. You really didn't know with this advanced a case?" 

"A case of what?" 

"I think you should sit down, Mr Fletcher," he said. 

Jerome Fletcher hadn't even realized that he was standing. 

The way Peter saw it, he had three options. He could tell his parents about his scores and let them start to bicker and scream and fight about whose fault it was that he flunked Herbology (ignoring that he had passed nearly everything else, of course) or yell out when he came back into the house that he got three E's and see if they paused long enough to ask him the rest of his grades or he could just let them ignore him like they had been doing with him all summer. 

He still hadn't decided what he wanted to do when he was walking up the porchsteps in front of his house. He had taken refuge in the park for a few hours, but he inexplicably wanted to head home. He couldn't understand it. He had never had that feeling before. Well, he supposed that was technically a lie. There had been good times, they were just very long ago before the differences between Muggle and wizarding worlds kept the Pettigrews from breaking all the odds against them. Jealousy, on both accounts, and being unable to share their lives had become a wall between them. 

Miserable as they were, Merlin forbid that anyone ever suggest to them that they divorce or even separate. Mrs Pettigrew would go from calling her husband lazy, rude, chauvinistic, loud, angry and abusive to saying that he was lazy, rude, chauvinistic, loud, angry and abusive but she loved him with all her heart. Mr Pettigrew would stop saying that his wife was ignorant, inflexible, loud, angry, and lazy to saying that she was ignorant, inflexible, loud, angry, and lazy but his heart would break if he didn't see her every day. 

The Pettigrews were the embodiment of the absolute extreminity of the phrase, "Can't live with them, can't live without them." They loved each other but couldn't live together. They couldn't bear to separate but they couldn't get along. 

While it was simple to quote what they would say if he suggested yet again that they just end the misery they inflicted on each other, Peter had no idea what they would say about his mediocre O.W.L. results. He decided as he approached the door that he would tell them if they had called a ceasefire but hide the envelope if they were fighting. 

He reached for the doorknob of the front door (he had left it open) but stopped. It was silent inside his house. It was all that he had wanted all summer, but now it terrified him. With trembling fingers, he turned the knob and stepped inside the house. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that met his eyes. They widened instantly and every muscle in his face relaxed, leaving a dumb look on his face. His brain had forgotten all about his muscles, the ones that let him show expression and the ones that would have allowed him to run or at least grab for his wand. One had was still on the doorknob, but its grip relaxed. His O.W.L. results fell from his hand and fell forgotten onto the floor. 

The door swung closed and locked at a command from one of the men standing in the shadows that Peter had hardly noticed. His eyes were fixed on the gruesome sight of his father lying dead. It was not the clean, cold death of Avada Kedavra. The knife that had been used to commit the murder lie a foot away. Blood was everywhere. He had been slashed and stabbed several times. 

"Hello Peter," one of the men said. He wore no mask. None of them did. He couldn't recognize any of them. He wondered if that was a spell or if they had sent only people that he didn't know. "Thank you for joining us." Then he turned to one of the men beside him. "I was beginning to think that your spell hadn't worked, Avery. The boy certainly took his time getting here." 

What had the mean called the other? Abey? Was that even a name? Was what even a name? What was going on? There was blood and his father looked dead and the men were holding his mother who was standing there with a blank expression on her face. Imperius? Or somethine else? If so, why hadn't he been hit yet? What was this? Why wasn't she already dead? Why hadn't they already killed Peter? Did Death Eaters like to play with their food? 

"He's gaping like a fish," the first man said. 

"Perhaps throwing water in his face would wipe the shock off it?" another suggested. 

"All right, Malfoy, but I still think that your participation here isn't the greatest idea," the first man said. "He might remember you. Now, if not later, it could be an issue." 

"You don't have to bother with the confusion spell. He'll either be one of us or a convict at the end of this. He can't betray us either way," the man Mafley said. Mafley? No, that wasn't his name. It wasn't. Peter knew his real name. 

He didn't care enough to fight the confusion spell. His father was dead, and his mother was just standing there obviously in their control. Then there was that bloody knife just sitting there glaring at him. He felt like he would faint. 

He swayed and immediately felt his legs and torso stiffen, and he was forced to remain upright and conscious. Then the coldest water that he had ever felt hit him full-force in the face. It was like a punch from a snowman. He was thrown back, but he couldn't move and was yanked back against the force of the water shooting at him. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't think of anything else either. 

"Enough, Malfoy," the first man said. 

Instantly the water stopped and Peter stood there sputtering and coughing, fighting for breath. Before he could regain any small part of his composure, the first man who appeared to be in charge of this raid said, "Now, now, this isn't the time to get all weepy on us, Petey boy." 

"You-you killed my father?" Peter could have bitten his tongue for the question that tumbled out of his mouth. Why couldn't he be brave? He knew what James and Sirius and Remus would have done in this situation. They would have said something clever and stood there bravely and proudly. They wouldn't have let their fear show. That was all that Peter had. Everything else was numb and shock and grief that fear was pushing aside. 

The man's lips curled nastily. "We haven't quite figured that out yet, Petey boy. So we're leaving it up to you," he said. His voice was thick and catlike. It sounded exactly like a cat playing with its food. 

"What do you mean you don't know who killed him?" if he could have managed an angry or challenging tone, it would have been a great thing to say. It came out fearful and uncertain, however, which was unlikely to be successful with these monsters. What was he going to do? He was going to die. He wouldn't even die a man like his father undoubtedly had. He would die scared out of his mind and begging for mercy. 

"Well, we just can't figure out what happened here. So we're letting you chime in," he said nastily. "You see, we've narrowed it down to two possibilities. Either, in the midst of the terrible fight that all the neighbors will bear witness to, your mother took a knife and killed him as they all wondered if she someday would...or you did it. After all, you hated them fighting. Your mother was your favorite. They were dreadfully stubborn about not breaking up and you just couldn't take it anymore. The neighbors have seen you yelling and stomping out of the house to get away from it. Terrible thing to do to a child, but what can you do with them once they're already warped?" 

Peter had no words. "That's not what happened," he whispered. He could have punched himself. Nothing would have been better. He should have stuck with nothing. 

"Really? No one else was here. What else could have happened?" the man said sounding highly amused in his mock curiousity. "Surely you're not expecting that old burglar defense to work?" 

Peter just shook his head in disbelief. His mind felt permanently boggled. The confusion spell wouldn't even let him think about anything clearly. The only thing that was penetrating was that it was somehow going to be his choice who killed his father. "Now, I have a feeling that we can solve this pretty simply. It's just a matter of whose fingerprints are on that knife. It's either yours or your mother's. That will tell us." 

Peter's eyes darted to the knife and remained fixed there. Slowly, the knife rose up into the air. It hovered between himself and his mother. He felt his arm whip up of its own accord as if tied with ropes on the ceiling that had just been pulled tight. His mother blissfully extended her hand as well. 

"Who was it then, Petey boy? You or your mother?" he asked. "I'll explain it for you," he said in response to the confused and terrified look on Peter's face. "I enjoy breaking the proud, but your numb stupidity and fear makes things simpler. Usually it takes hours on these recruiting raids or, as I like to call them, corruption exercises. 

"Oh well. Here we are, Petey boy. You make the call. Shall we move the knife into your mother's hands or your own? Both have consequences. Would you like to hear them?" the man asked with the air of a professor sharing a fun fact with the class. "If you choose your mother's hands, then you will join us. Only fair, as we have saved you from Azkaban. You will serve the Dark Lord as a spy within Hogwarts and tell us everything about James Potter and Sirius Black. Your mother will undoubtedly go to Azkaban though perhaps as a Muggle she will have a reduced sentence. Perhaps a greater one. Who can tell? One minute the world is happy and gay, and the next it is bleak and gray. Oh, well I guess you know that now, Petey boy, don't you? 

"Or would you prefer to be called Wormtail? That is your old nickname, isn't it? Tell me, would your friends want you to be noble? I suppose you could be thinking that now. But consider what that would entail to save your mother. You would go to Azkaban for killing your father. The rest of your life, you would be behind bars with Dementors to suck the few good memories you have away from you. You would relive this moment constantly with every other that pains you. You would never know if we let your mother live after all you went through to save her. You would live doubting and wondering and torturing yourself and in a prison of your memory of this moment and this choice. And do you know, Wormtail, what you will see even more often? The look on your friends faces. They will change, you know, throughout the trial. First it will be disbelief, horror that this could happen to you. Then the horror becomes not your delimma but you yourself and their disbelief is not that you would be accused of this but disbelief of your rather wild story of Death Eaters who use Muggle weapons to kill. Why would Death Eater want to recruit a talentless thing like you, after all? Why would wizards use a knife from your kitchen? Slowly, they will begin to invent things that will prove that they should have known all along. They will all turn on you. They will despise you, hate you, wish that they had never let you into their circle. All of them. They will stop fighting for you. Even your mother. She, as long or short she lives, will remember only this. She'll testify against you, of course, under Imperius. Then we'll modify her memory. Everyone will think you a killer. You will deserve your fate to them. Then they will forget you entirely." 

Tears were rolling down Peter's cheeks as he stared at the knife floating in the air. It started toward him. "Is that to be the rest of your life, Wormtail? Dementors and lost friends and no one left to love or care for you? No one will ever know the noble thing you did. No one will ever believe it. You will be a monster to them. Or will you become the monster and let them think you the angel? Will you spy and serve the Dark Lord or let everyone think that you did anyway while you rot in Azkaban and relive this moment and the others to come until your life is worthless even to you?" 

Peter closed his eyes, unable to see the knife come any closer. It wafted toward his mother and he couldn't suppress the relief he felt at having it further away or the horror at his mother's fate as well as his own that that choice too would present. 

"You see, Petey boy, no one ever joins the Dark Lord under coercion. It's always a choice. They always have a way out. Azkaban is yours, and that little knife. 

"So, we're all waiting. What will it be, Wormtail? We're waiting with bated breath for your decision." ©KatyMulvaney12-19-2004 

* * *

©KatyMulvaney12-19-2004  
**Posted:**


	15. And Nothing Would Ever Be The Same

**Chapter Fifteen  
And Nothing Would Ever Be the Same**

The teacup fell from his hands and shattered on the desk, its contents spilling across his desk, its progress unchecked. The man who had dropped it was not clumsy or lazy for not cleaning it, he was simply stunned.

There was no reason for it. There was no sense in it. It could not be. There was no possibility of what his eyes were seeing being true. None. Whatsoever. There couldn't be. It meant... It meant... Remus Lupin wasn't even sure all that it meant, but it was enormously, monstrously important. It changed _everything._ Loyalties, history, friendships, priorities, all the assumptions that he had built his life on; thirteen years of them were changed in one moment, with one name.

Most of all it changed the omnipresent fact of his life since his Hogwarts days: he was not alone. _Peter Pettigrew._ There it was, written as plain as day, in the special font and larger size that all of the Marauders' names appeared in on the Map. _Peter._ Alive all these years.

Peter alive all these years? Standing in Hagrid's hut as if it were the most normal thing in the world? As if he hadn't been dead for thirteen years? Forget how, _why?_ Remus stared at the Map in bewilderment as the four dots labelled Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and, unbelievably and undeniably, Petter Pettigrew started to make their way slowly back to the castle.

They didn't get far, however, before a fifth dot crossed their path. This one was also labelled larger than the rest. Sirius Black this time. Damn! He would get Harry, he would kill him, Remus had to get out there, alert Dumbledore, he was in Hagrid's hut by this point. Remus grabbed his wand and made to rush out, but he glanced down at the Map once more and his heart froze once again.

Sirius's dot and two others were heading directly for the Whomping Willow. Peter Pettigrew and _Ron Weasley._ This actually hit Remus harder than seeing Peter on the Map again. Why not Harry? Bait? That wasn't Sirius's style, even if the Minister of Magic and Headmaster of Hogwarts were only a short distance away. Why not drag Harry off if he could drag one away? Why unless...

Why unless it wasn't Harry or Ron that he wanted after all.

Remus lept to his feet, forgetting that he hadn't taken his potion yet tonight, that he needed to wipe the Map or anyone could read it, forgetting that he should go for Dumbledore, forgetting everything but the desperate need to get to the Whomping Willow before he lost his friends who had been his whole life all over again. Whatever new chance this was, he wasn't going to lose it.

He wasn't going to lose Harry either, not to either of the men Remus had once counted as friends who wanted to kill him. Both of the suspects were in the room. What did this mean? Why would Sirius want to kill Peter? Surely, _surely,_ the Dark Lord's second-in-command would care more for the boy that killed Voldemort than for the man who... The man who what? Could Peter be the ...

How was any of this possible?

Why would Harry, Ron and Hermione go with Peter to the castle?

That was when, as he practically leaped down a whole flight of stairs (werewolf on the full moon), he remembered the glimpse of Ron's rat that he had had on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of the year. "Scabbers" had looked familiar. He had even thought that it looked like Peter, though scrawnier and older and much more careworn. But Peter wouldn't have unless ...

His thoughts wouldn't finish themselves. Another pushed its way in before he could complete it, and the conclusions were too horrifying. Sirius couldn't have spent thirteen years in Azkaban if... Peter couldn't have been sleeping for three years one bed away from Harry if he was...

Remus ran faster, not meeting anyone but hardly noticing. He burst out the doors and didn't stop sprinting to the Willow, diving down into the roots and falling down the passageway. He didn't stop running until he reached the trapdoor.

_Could_ it have been Peter all these years and not Sirius? Not that Remus would have known, they didn't even tell him when they were doing it. He had returned from a three week mission to find that he didn't remember where Lily and James lived anymore. He had put it down at first to being unable to keep up with their weekly rotation, but before long he had gone to Dumbledore to report the bizarre event.

Dumbledore had looked at him sympathetically. He had reminded him that his absenses for the Order couldn't be explained and thus looked highly, well he never said suspicious, but then he didn't have to. Remus had known why he hadn't been told. Remus shook his head to dislodge that thought as he slid to a stop by the trapdoor.

He paused for the briefest of seconds, trying to take in the idea that two of his friends, both of whom he had thought he lost forever, were in the Shrieking Shack yet again. Then he threw it up and hoisted himself into the Shack. He heard voices coming from upstairs and the sounds of a scuffle. Remus's heart stopped dead for a moment. Harry.

_"Expelliarmus!"_ he shouted as he entered, Harry's wand leaping out of his hand as the small boy knelt over the wraith that Sirius had become. Remus didn't even notice that it was the first time in thirteen years that he had called him "Sirius" rather than "Black," even in his thoughts. Remus caught the three wands without a thought in his head. There was no room for them in his whirling mind.

He looked at Sirius, Hermione's cat on his chest, looking at him with haunted eyes that did not belong to the Sirius Black he chose to remember when he could bear to. He said the first words he had said to his friend in thirteen years, "Where is he, Sirius?"

Sirius, after a long moment, pointed at the bed. Remus looked at the frantic rat. Now that he knew, the resemblance was undeniable. Peter looked terrible, but there was no other rat that it could be scurrying about the bed with Ron Weasley trying to keep hold of him. Serve him right if it were true that...

Remus turned back to Sirius and stared at him long and hard, trying to see the truth in his eyes and pluck the thoughts out of his mind. "But then ... why hasn't he shown himself before now?" That was the proof that Remus's mind needed. He was desperate to believe Sirius was innocent after all. He would never realize how willing, in contrast, he was to believe that Peter was the one. But his mind had ever appealed to sense, and now he could give some sense to the desperate desire of his heart. "Unless, he was the one ... unless you switched - without telling me?"

Sirius locked eyes with him, offering no resistance to Remus's legilimency. Remus didn't need it. He could see it in his gaze without any help. He didn't need Sirius's nod either. He knew.

Remus Lupin walked over to the sunken, weak man and pulled him to his feet and did what he thought for thirteen years he would never do again, he embraced Sirius Black as his brother.

As Sirius returned the embrace, Remus was not immediately aware of Hermione's shriek of outrage or the picture that this would make the to three young wizards in the room. He didn't care. He had a piece of his old life back, the life before it was shattered. Would he have been able to save it, had he known then that it was as fragile as glass? Or would the forces of evil have torn it from his grasp all the same?

* * *

When Marissa arrived, straight from the hospital, people were everywhere trying vainly to pick up the shards of the Pettigrews' shattered life. She looked even more dazed than Peter to her friends who had already arrived. Lily had arrived first, out of breath from running the several blocks to his house following the owl that had given her the awful and largely fabricated news. Then the Potters had pulled up with James and Sirius who practically leapt out of the car when it was still moving and sprinted up to Peter and Lily then stood around not sure what to do. Remus flooed when he realized that his parents were seriously refusing to take him.

Jerome Fletcher dropped Marissa at the curb. He had been solicitous at the hospital, but there was distance between them in the car. Marissa knew, deep down in the place that wasn't consumed with thousands of shifting, sliding, and crashing thoughts exploding in her mind, that he was pulling away from what he thought he might lose. He wouldn't let himself lose someone he cared about again. Jerome Fletcher wouldn't refuse to consider losing her, he would stop caring about her. He would try. He might even be able to manage it.

Marissa only knew this at the level just above the one where she knew that she had to keep breathing to stay alive. Alive. That word had so many different feelings connected with it now. Marissa took in a long, slow breath and let it out even more slowly. She wasn't sure if she could do this. She just didn't know.

The only mind more chaotic than her own was Peter's. His mother was being carted off to the Ministry to await trial for the murder of his father. Dumbledore was here looking at him with all-knowing eyes that pierced right into his soul, or seemed to at least. He was inviting him to Hogwarts. He even asked the Potters to let James and Sirius come as well for their own protection. But Peter was the most dangerous person to James and Sirius now. He shivered. What had he done?

Whatever it was, there was no going back.

"Hello Peter," Marissa said weakly when she reached them, a feeble smile twitching on her lips out of long habit then dying quickly. Dying. Marissa shook her head to dislodge the word from her jumbled thoughts. "I'm sorry."

_No, I am._ Peter could hardly stand to look at Marissa who was so sweet and caring and noble. He could barely stand to look at his proud and certain friends. He was sitting down in a chair, thankfully, or he couldn't have kept his legs under him. Marissa knelt down in front of him and caught his eyes with hers. Peter would think later that after enduring that gaze, so full of friendship and sympathy and sweetness and sorrow, he would never again feel the scourge of guilt so sharply. Never could his conscience scream so loudly again as it had then with the act so fresh in his mind and the face of this angel looking at him with such pure empathy and caring as if he were the innocent victim. No, he caused this.

"She didn't kill him," he found himself saying to her.

Marissa nodded solemnly. "She really loved him despite it all."

"They always loved each other. It was the reason they drove each other so nuts," Peter said, looking at her and wanting her to believe but not see. Was that even possible? Peter didn't care. He didn't care if this got him caught, he wanted Marissa to see.

Marissa smiled weakly at him, "There are many ways of loving."

They were all watching this exchange with awe. They had been trying to talk to Peter since arriving, but he had merely stared at his feet and said nothing. They had shielded him from the worst of the onslaughts by the Aurors, but only she had gotten him to look her in the eye. They knew then that Peter Pettigrew loved Marissa Fletcher. They also knew that she didn't love him back. They hadn't thought that the day could grow more bittersweet.

"I came home and found him dead," Peter said, looking at her even though it killed him.

She was looking back steadily, trying to be a rock in the storm rather than the millstone around his neck that was yanking him even deeper down into the depths. She didn't know that she was sinking him deeper in guilt and regret. "And then they came to take Mum away."

Marissa closed her eyes and bit her lip, taking a deep breath to steady herself. When she opened her eyes a moment later, they were swimming in tears. "Everything's gone, Riss, everything," he said, unable to look away from the grief in her eyes.

"Not everything," she said in a voice tight from choking back sobs. "He never takes everything at once, Peter."

"Who?" Peter cried in surprise. Did she know about Voldemort? Could she possibly know? Was even that not beyond the omniscient powers of Marissa Fletcher?

"God," she whispered.

_Oh not that. Not Him too._ "I don't believe in God," Peter said, looking down. It was defiant. Peter knew that he would pay too high a price for this in this life. He couldn't bear the thought of paying again in the next. There could be no God. Peter did not need another thing to fear. He did not need another consequence of today's choice to haunt him. Marissa had tried to help but in her sweetness and innocence and caring she was torturing him for his betrayal.

"Don't you believe that you'll see your father again?" Marissa asked him.

Peter didn't know. He hoped not. His father would never forgive him for his choice, for what he was putting his mother through, for lacking the courage to brave Azkaban. "When you're dead you're gone. Over. It's ended. There's nothing after death," he heard himself saying harshly, still staring at his feet.

So it was only the other Marauders and Lily that saw how Marissa cringed and shuddered at every word. Dead. Gone. Over. Ended. Nothing. The last word was the most frightening of all. She put her hand over her eyes and let out a few sobs, unable to keep them back any longer.

"I - I'm sorry, Peter," she cried, rising quickly and hurrying away to find a quieter corner of the house. The boys and Lily looked at each other for a moment indecisively. Then Remus nodded toward Peter and hurried after her. They could handle this closed, grim Peter. Remus would only add to his moodiness with anything that he could muster. He might as well try to calm Marissa down.

Ducking an owl that was heading for Dumbledore, Remus hurried after where he thought Marissa had gone. He found her in the back yard on the garden bench beside Mrs Pettigrew's beloved flowers. Remus wondered briefly if that was a Muggle thing, the flowers. Lily's mother and sister and Peter's...

It was probably wrong to be thinking so calmly about poor Mrs Pettigrew. Even if Peter wasn't right about her innocence, the Dementors were a horrible fate to wish on anyone.

Her garden was like an island safe from the raging storm all around them. Marissa was curled in on herself on the bench, sobbing uncontrollably. The peaceful setting didn't seem to be helping. Remus walked over and sat next to her on the bench. He reached tentatively out and touched her shoulder.

Marissa jumped and her limbs broke apart in shock as she turned to stare at him. Her eyes were red from crying and still leaking tears, and her sobs had only lessened rather than stop entirely. Remus was startled by the intensity of her gaze. It was a naked gaze, nothing of the grief and pain she had been feeling veiled.

"Riss, are you -" he began awkwardly.

Marissa shook her head violent back and forth. "I'm a terrible person."

Remus was speechless for a minute. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. Marissa was still shaking her head back and forth.

"I am terrible, Remus. This horrible thing just happened to Peter. He just lost his whole family in one swoop and I'm not crying for him," Marissa said, covering her face with her hands. Remus drew her closer with the hands still on her shoulders and pulled her into his arms. He tried not to think, at this very inappropriate moment, that it felt so good to have her there in his arms.

"You don't have to be selfless all the time, Riss," he whispered to her as he held the sobbing girl. It rather terrified him to have her crying like this. It was panicked and frightened. He had grudgingly grown used to the melancholy and wistful and even sorrowful Marissa, but this terror and sadness in her eyes scared him.

"But today - today of all days -" she had calmed enough to speak even if it was broken speech, but the panic was still in her voice.

"Is it your mother?" he asked her.

Marissa seemed to give a short laugh, you could almost see the wry smile briefly gracing her face. "I suppose that would make sense," she replied noncommitally.

She pulled away enough to look at him. They both stopped, freezing as if they had never quite seen each other before. Remus's head was full of nothing but this moment. He reached out and tenderly pushed a strand of hair out of her face. Marissa was gazing at him in a way that rather undid him.

Suddenly, Marissa's eyes widened, and she was staring at him with a different emotion on her face. The old fear was back, and the pain was stronger than before. She pushed away hurriedly. "I have to go," she said as she stood, shaking. "I can't do this. Not today. I have to get out of here."

"Riss!" he called after her, dazed. She did not turn. She was hurrying away from him, looking straight ahead as if she couldn't bear to look back. Remus sank back down onto the bench, overwhelmed by all the emotions that a few short seconds had brought him.

* * *

Tears still blurring her eyes and emotions running even faster and more out of control than her thoughts, Marissa nearly careened right into Dumbledore as she headed for the way out. "Sorry, Headmaster," she mumbled, starting to move past him.

He caught her arm. Marissa had never seen him touch a student. It wasn't that there was anything improper about it, it just surprised her. "Miss Fletcher, I have just received your father's owl." Marissa froze. Dumbledore continued calmly, "Can you and your father meet me at Hogwarts on Monday at two o'clock for tea?" Marissa looked up at him in surprise, unable to keep the anguish off her face.

"Tea?" she said in surprise. Dumbledore's utter calm helped to steady her, but she was almost affronted by it. Her world had just come crashing down on her. He had no right to be so calm. Then Marissa noticed the grief in his eyes, the way they bore into her. There was sadness. All the jolliness, the happiness, the almost giddiness was gone. She wondered if her eyes were just as devoid of these things that normally filled them.

"Yes, I find a good cup of tea helps to ease a difficult discusion," Dumbledore said in a tone very subdued for the cheerful headmaster of Hogwarts. "Though it is not so devoid of hope as you may think now, Marissa, it is very serious."

Marissa just stared up at him. "I feel as if all my hope was robbed from me," she whispered seriously.

"Nothing can take that away, Marissa," he told her simply. "But this is not the best place for you to be just now."

"I need to go home, Professor," Marissa said, registering with a start that he had called her by her first name. Professor Dumbledore never called students by their first names. "I'm going to try to catch my father - "

Dumbledore shook his head at her. "Your father has departed. I will provide you with a portkey home once the Aurors have all returned to the Ministry in a few moments. I will have your house's fireplace connected to the Floo Network before Monday."

"Thank you, Professor," Marissa said, taking a deep breath to collect herself. She wasn't sure if she had it in her to be calm now, however.

* * *

"She'll get off, Peter," Lily tried yet again to break the heavy, oppressive silence. She wondered briefly if this was selfish. Peter might want to just be left alone, but none of them could bear to leave him. "They won't convict her. They can't, because it's not true."

"Her fingerprints are on the knife," Peter said hollowly. "They'll have testimony from neighbors who will say how they fought. They won't believe any one else could have been in the house. It wasn't suicide. And she's a Muggle. She's doomed."

They were all silenced. Any encouraging words they had died on their lips. "Then what _did_ happen?" Lily cried in frustration. "What could have happened here today?"

_I know, Lily,_ Peter thought as he sunk deeper in his depression.

"We'll find out, Wormtail, I promise you that," James said determinedly. He looked gratefully at Lily for giving him that purpose.

"How?" Peter asked hollowly, hiding his panic successfully. "We don't have any clues."

"There's got to be some around here," Lily said, taking up the spirit of the idea.

"Like what? A burglar?" Peter asked. "A barrister would probably tell us to plead insanity. It's a pity the wizarding world doesn't usually buy that."

"But it can be true!" Lily flared up. Then she deflated again the next moment, setting aside her anger as she looked at Peter.

"Peter, your folks drove you crazy, but you can't give up what's left of your family without a fight," Sirius insisted, surprising them all slightly considering his current situation.

"There's nothing I can do now," Peter said, standing up and starting to walk away from his friends, unable to bear being in their righteous and untainted presence any longer.

"You can't just give up, Peter!" Sirius called determinedly after him. He followed him, his arms waving furiously as he argued. "Look, your parents were batty. They screamed and they fought and they damn near tore each other's throats out every day, but they loved each other and they loved you. You loved them separately. Well, your mother, just your mother, is at the Ministry about to be thrown to the Dementors. Will you do nothing?"

"Yes!" Peter screamed, whirling around to face him when he couldn't walk faster than he did. "Because there's nothing I can do."

He turned and hurried away, but Sirius still followed. "You can't throw off family this easily, Peter. You love her. You're condemning her to the Dementors if you do nothing. Do you want that on your conscience? Can you bear that, Peter?"

"Shut up, Sirius! Shut up!" Peter screamed, holding his hands over his ears.

Sirius stopped dead in surprise. For a moment, the thought struck him that it was a terrible day to expect Peter to act his best. However, this was the moment that the decision had to be made. He hurried to catch up, his longer stride allowing him to overtake Peter. "She needs you now, Peter. You're the only one who will believe her innocence. If nothing else, she needs you to be there believing in her, fighting for her. Don't cast her off!"

The sounds of the argument receded slowly as Sirius pursued Peter down the different corridors and passageways of the old house. James and Lily stood still, regarding each other. "I think all our friends have gone crazy now," James said uncertainly.

"It's a hard day for sanity," Lily replied. "James - " she began but cut herself off. Before she could say what she wanted to, Remus came back in the room. He looked dazed but calm. Lily stopped and felt both relief and a sickening feeling that a great chance for something had just been lost. She didn't know what it was, but she missed it.

"What happened, Remus?" James asked, looking at his confused looking friend.

"Marissa ran off, I think she's gone home," he said. Both James and Lily started in surprise. "I think this hits too close to home for her." Even as he said it, however, Remus felt that it had to be more than her mother that was bothering Marissa for her to abandon her friend like this.

"Peter and Sirius ran off too, arguing heatedly about family obligations of all things," James said. "You never would have seen the sides they took coming either."

"It's a day for things you never saw coming," Lily murmured.

"Things can't go back to normal after this, can they?" James said, running a hand nervously through his hair. "Do you ever feel like we lost our childhood this summer?"

"I don't know if I ever had one," Remus said.

"We lost youth, innocence," Lily corrected, the fact that she was agreeing with James Potter ignored for the grave occassion. "All the evil of the world has touched us now, and nothing can ever be the same again, can it?"

"Voldemort's real now, not just a phantom," Remus said. "Ever since Lizzie. Now Death is haunting our steps again."

"Do you think that Marissa's all right?" Lily asked suddenly sounding very concerned rather than merely melancholy.

"I don't know, Lily," Remus said with a sigh.

* * *

Gideon Prewett arrived just as Marissa was about to take Dumbledore's Portkey home. He walked determined up to her. "Peter?" he said abruptly.

"In the house, arguing with Sirius about how to help his mother," Marissa replied immediately. "Is Mrs Pettigrew doing - "

"That is Auror business," Gideon all but snapped. Then he replied in crisp, military tones, "As I am not an Auror, however, I feel free to disclose to you that she is doing as well as someone on trial for a murder they did not in all likelihood commit can."

Marissa nodded her appreciation. "You believe her then?"

"It's too obvious. It's a conspiracy if you ask me," Gideon said, actually looking Marissa in the eye briefly. It wasn't much, but she appreciated it considering what their last conversation had entailed.

His theory worried her, however. "Gideon...a conspiracy? Are you sure that you're not getting a little paranoid?" Marissa regretted it the moment that she said it.

"If neither Peter nor Mrs Pettigrew killed her husband and his father, what do you suggest happened?" Gideon asked her. "Or do you believe her less than you pretend?"

"I just meant...oh I don't know, Gideon. I'm worried about you. You can't go around seeing Death Eaters in every shadow," Marissa said. "Believe me, there are evils that have nothing to do with them."

"What do you know of evil in your life, Marissa Fletcher?"

Marissa felt the answer on her tongue, but it froze there. It suddenly felt as heavy as if it were made of lead and as difficult to control as if magnets were involved with the lead. "Could you be more specific as to Peter's whereabouts, it is a fairly large house," Gideon said clinically.

"Upstairs I think," Marissa whispered, blinking as if it would clear her head, frowning when it did not.

"Thank you," he moved past her. He turned right before he left the room, and said to her back, "I don't really hate you, Marissa."

"I knew that, Gideon," she replied simply. Then she picked up the small globe that Professor Dumbledore had given her telling her that it would also take her to Hogwarts on Monday if there was a hold-up with the Floo Network. She closed her eyes, and in a moment she felt her feet hit the ground and was thankfully home.

* * *

Peter saw Marissa leave and couldn't believe that she would go without even saying anything today of all days. As hard as it was to see her, even though it only drug him through more torture, he wanted her there. Peter wandered sometimes if he was glutton for punishment. Nothing had made him feel worse today than seeing his father dead and the knife in his mother's hands, but looking in her eyes knowing what he had done had come close.

Now if only Sirius would leave him alone. Sirius who was so brave and valiant and gave up so much for what was right. Sirius was what Peter could never be. Sirius could give up everything he had ever known for an uncertain future the outlook of which was decidedly bleak, but Peter couldn't do the same thing. He had faced the test and failed spectacularly.

He looked down the stairs at all of his friends, clustered together and preparing to go hunt him down. He envied them their pride and bravery, but most of all the fact that they had not yet been tested. Sirius and James had fought, but they had never been the targets of Death Eaters. They had never been their prey. Now Peter was their tool. Lily's biggest problem was convincing people that she wanted no part of James and the prejudice of the magical world in general. That was too general, however, to affect her too much. Remus, well Remus came close, but he had no choice. He had to bear it. He hadn't had to choose between two evils. He stared one in the face, but he hadn't had to live with the fact that he chose the greater of two evils because it was a little easier.

Who would have ever thought that he would think longingly of what would have happened if he had gone to Azkaban?

* * *

Remus, unlike the other boys, was not surprised by Marissa Fletcher's house. It was the first time that he saw it (she had picked him up for the Ball rather than the other way around), but he did not do a double-take or check to make sure that he had the address right.

Perhaps, it was because she shared more of her family troubles with him than she did the other boys. Perhaps it was that he was used to this sort of atmosphere. Perhaps it was merely that Remus had her welfare more on his mind than the size and decor of her house.

Just like the other Marauders, however, Remus used the heavy knocker rather than the doorbell. Not even James and his parents had managed to work out the pull-bell. It was not Marissa, looking amused and as if she had just stopped laughing, who opened the door for Remus. It was her father, looking pale and drawn and grave. It did not strike Remus as strange. He would have been startled only by the opposite look on Mr Fletcher's face.

"Is Marissa home, Mr Fletcher?" Remus said politely.

Jerome Fletcher looked as if he were pulling himself out of a heavy daze when the confusion finally lifted from his face, "Oh, you're that Remus boy who escorted her," he said simply. "Lupin?" he asked without appearing to be interested in the least. "Marissa's not seeing anyone today," he announced without waiting for confirmation.

He moved to close the door in the young wizard's face. "Please, sir," Remus said, stepping forward slightly to keep him from closing the door. "Is she all right?"

"Of course not," Mr Fletcher said harshly. "Why would she be?"

"I don't know, sir," Remus said, a cold feeling in his stomache. "When she left crying, I - we didn't know what to thing. None of us thought that she would leave Peter today."

"And just what is today?" he demanded.

"Peter's father died today, and they arrested his mother for his murder," Remus said. "She didn't do it," Remus added quickly.

Jerome Fletcher's face blanked for a moment, then sluggishly resumed animation. "Peter's father died today?" he asked hollowly.

"Yes, Mr Fletcher," Remus replied. "May I please just speak to her?"

"I'm sorry, Mr Lupin," Jerome Fletcher said, recovering his composure. "Not today. Not today."

"Please, just tell me how she is, what's wrong," Remus found himself almost pleading.

"Mr Lupin, our family has sustained something of a shock today as well. I think it would be best if you left now. I'm sure that Marissa will be in contact with you when she is ready," Marissa's father said as he firmly closed the door on Remus Lupin.

Remus stood in shock for a moment, his mind turning over and over this conversation for some shred of understanding to drop into place. None did. He slowly turned to leave.

Jerome Fletcher turned from the door he had used to shut out the world in this new form. Marissa was standing at the top of the stairs looking down at him steadily. Jerome Fletcher looked right back at her. Marissa broke the gaze first and looked down, her arms wrapped around herself and looking as if the slightest draft would knock her over if her determination to remain standing wavered even slightly.

"You were right to leave," Jerome said at long last. "Don't think on it or their reactions."

"Professor Dumbledore wants to meet with us on Monday," Marissa said. "He said he'd connect our home to the Floo Network."

"You will tell me later what that is?" Jerome said clinically. Marissa nodded. Neither said anything else. They merely stood there just like that, almost as still as statues for time without end. Father and daughter with nothing to say to each other, father and daughter with even more to stand between them than before, father and daughter unsure how to proceed.

It was not lost on them that this was the same room where Livy Fletcher had made the decision that drove this wedge between them to save another member of their family. Livy's death had been the death of her family. The corpse that remained had never been so apparent or gruesome as it was now. Father did not rush to comfort daughter, daughter did not appeal to father for comfort. They looked little like they were father and daughter now and more like strangers. They felt more like strangers than kin, this new shock making the gulf between them even wider. The feeble bridge that they had carefully crafted over it had caved in under the weight of this shock, and neither felt that they had the strength to rebuild.

* * *

Snape had come up with a new way to drive the thoughts of Marissa Fletcher out of his head. Everytime he starting thinking about what she had said or her words replayed themselves in his mind, he would break something. Something expensive. It didn't drive her out, but it fit his mood well. As a side benefit, this new mood in his son seemed to please Siward Snape for the first time in anyone's memory.

Ursula Snape certainly didn't mind the breaking; after all, house elves could fix that in the blink of an eye. What bothered her was what she knew it probably meant. It wasn't regret at his choice over the Easter Holidays. It was something in its way even more dangerous to Ursula Snape's plans for her son's future with the Dark Lord. It was a girl.

And he hated this girl. That was clear from his anger with the world and himself. He didn't want to feel anything at all for her. He wanted to show contempt for her. He wanted to dismiss her. He would settle for loathing her, but he couldn't even do that.

Such a girl was dangerous. So Ursula Snape waited for him to tell her who it was. A Mudblood, that much she knew from his disgust with himself. A Gryffindor? Perhaps. Beautiful? Not quite. Strong-willed, certainly. Meddlesome? Yes, dangerously so.

Once there was enough for her name to be found out, Ursula Snape would deal with her. Her son did not have to worry, though of course he did anyway. He did not know his conniving mother. It would not take much, it never took much to convince Death Eaters to kill a Mudblood.

Even if his mother had suceeded that fateful summer, it would not have wiped Marissa Fletcher's painful words out of his mind. His head was ringing with them because they were true. His head was ringing with them because she had shown compassion without pity, offered a kind of friendship that was not charity but companionship. His head was ringing with them because he could not fathom that there existed such a person as she appeared to be. He was fascinated and hated himself for giving her a second thought, yet he could not drive her from his head.

She was too sweet to be sincere. She thought too much in black and white to be forgiving. She was too naive to be understanding. Surely these paradoxes could not be reversed by one little slip of a girl who was no more than the lesser counterpart of the Moroners?

Snape conjured a sledge hammer and smashed the Vanishing Cabinet to smithereens. It did not beat Marissa Fletcher or her words out of his head.

* * *

Marissa wanted to bash her own head in about that same time, incidentally. It appeared that "natural causes" would beat even Ursula Snape to the draw. Jerome Fletcher was not the caring man of her childhood or the aloof man of what had been left of it after her mother died or the solicitious man at the hospital. He was pulling away entirely.

The only words that she said to him from after Remus's visit until it was time to leave for Hogwarts were instructions about how to use the Floo Network. Even those were delivered in an unsure, clipped tone. Jerome Fletcher only nodded wordlessly in response to her words. With a heavy sigh, Marissa threw the powder onto the flames and stepped amongst them, "Hogwarts!" she shouted, her voice coming out angry despite herself.

Then the word was spinning and green flames and a whirlwind of fireplaces that was so confusing and overwhelming that it quieted for that brief trip the similiar whirlwind within her mind. She felt sick after a moment, but it was better than thinking about being sick.

All too soon, she was stepping out of the fireplace in Dumbledore's office and moving to the side to allow her father through a moment later. They stood before the Headmaster, both looked lost and infinitely sad. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was barely there.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mr Fletcher, Miss Fletcher," Dumbledore said with the unflappable calm he always radiated. Marissa latched onto his calm to quell the rising panic in her heart.

"Have the two of you spoken about what kind of treatment method you will be pursuing?" he asked in a sincere though detached sort of voice.

All three were struck by the reminder of the last time that the three of them had been together in this room. Marissa heard his words in her head, "There is someone here with whom you have not truly spoken in many years." And had she in the time that had elapsed? Really talked with him? Was it too late now with her father already so dramatically changed?

"The doctors are in agreement about their suggestions," Jerome Fletcher said at long length.

"The reason that I called you in today is that there is an option that your doctors would not have known of to consider," Dumbledore told them calmly. He saw hope light up Marissa's face again and doubt cloud her father's. Both were very dangerous in their fragile states after the repeated shocks of the last week.

"You mean, wizards have a way of - "

"Actually, no," Dumbledore told them calmly. "It's a Muggle treatment, but generally regarded as being ... well, the wizarding world can help with the side effects. That's what I wanted to discuss with the two of you.

"Would you please all take a seat?" Marissa and Jerome Fletcher exchanged looks briefly, wondering what this boded if the last invitation to them had shattered their world. Did they dare even hope that this would help put it back together?

* * *

Two days until Dumbledore's deadline for deciding if they wanted to do the treatment and they hadn't even discussed it. Enough was enough, Marissa decided. She strode into the room where she knew her father would be. "I want to do the treatment," she said firmly, staring at the man who was pretending to read his paper.

"You want to get the hell away from this house," her father replied. "What else is new? You've been doing it ever since Mundungus was born."

"That's not fair," Marissa said, and you could hear the tears in her eyes and the anger in her heart in her voice. "You were the one who left. I don't want to stay here and in hospitals. I want to go home."

Jerome Fletcher's head snapped up. "What, you can say it but I can't?" she demanded in the same voice, thick with emotion but not loud or wailing. "This place hasn't been home since Mum died, a time I can barely remember. I want to go to Hogwarts. With this treatment I can. I can go to class, talk to my friends, study - "

"And there's a seventy percent chance that we lose you in six months? What good will your precious classes do you then?" he demanded. "How is Mundungus going to take this? This could very well be the last six months of your life and you won't spend it with him."

"Oh don't you dare drag him into this!" Marissa shouted at him. "Don't you dare when you've ignored him his whole life!"

"Well who's ignoring him now? Doesn't he have a right to be with his sister in what might be the last days of her life?" her father demanded. "He needs you."

"We've always needed you, since when does that stop anybody in this family?" Marissa replied.

"Fine, Marissa. You hate me. Fine," her father cried, snapping the paper aside and staring up at her, looking her directly in the eye for the first time since they left the hospital. "But as much as you may want to you can't make this about me and what I did. This is about you. Are you going to choose your friends and your precious school over your brother? It doesn't matter that I'm a hypocrit for using this argument, that doesn't make it untrue."

Marissa was silent for a minute. "The only place I can get this treatment is Hogwarts and I have twice the chance of surviving this ordeal," Marissa said tightly. "Isn't it better that I'm always here for Gus than that I'm here just a little longer?"

"The odds are ridiculous, Marissa, why deprive us of so much time?"

"Less time, less time!" Marissa shouted back suddenly. "But more time that matters! More time when the world can be normal! When I can be happy and not have to live under constant pity and weakness! More time away from hospitals! More time away from other sick people! More time with the people who really care about me! More time with the people who don't need death to frighten them into wanting me around!"

Jerome Fletcher lept to his feet and began to pace in his anger. "You understand that this is just one shot, one chance, no turning back? If this doesn't work, nothing else will, do you understand that?" he demanded. "You'll go to school for what is most likely the last six months to a year of your life and your family loses this chance to be with you as much as possible."

Marissa shook her head at him. "What is there for me here?" she asked calmly and tiredly. "A brother who will be at Hogwarts in a year when I'm in hospitals up to my eyeballs and laying about in a bed with no strength to do anything else but just lie there. A father who can't look me in the face except when I'm defying him. What am I staying for? I'm giving up my best chance to live for a worse way to die."

They were both silent for a very long moment. "Mundungus - " her father was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. He stopped and neither moved until Mavi entered the room. "It's for you, Riss," she said, casting glances back and forth between them wonderingly.

"I'll get the extension in here," Marissa said in a hollow voice. Mavi nodded, and after a moment of staring at them in confused silence, closed the door again. Marissa slowly moved toward the phone. With her hand on the mouthpeice she took a deep breath and picked it up. "Hello?" she said in the same hollow voice.

Jerome Fletcher watched her listen for a long moment, then heard her say, "I'll be right there." She slowly put the phone down. She closed her eyes as if steeling herself against a mental blow. After a moment she opened them again and started to walk out.

"Where are you going?" her father demanded.

"The hospital," she said, closing the door behind her.

Her father caught it and swung it open, following her. "The hospital? You can't cancel treatment without my consent. You're only sixteen for heaven's sake."

"Heaven?" Marissa asked, rounding on him. "Heaven is what's about to take my best friend's mother. She's been dying for a long time. They're saying that death is a blessing. They're saying that the family bore it so long it began to tear them apart inside. They're saying that they couldn't take much more. They're saying that they're almost glad that it's finally over."

"You can't do this today," Jerome Fletcher said, catching her arm.

"If you don't drive me I'll take the bus," Marissa snapped.

"That's not what I meant," he said, holding her still as she tried to walk away. "Didn't you learn from the Pettigrew death? You can't do this. Not now, not today. Not with your own fate still undecided."

Marissa pulled her arm out of his grasp, "I have to. I won't lose my friend." She turned to walk away. She turned back at the door, "I can't lose her. Not now, not today. So I'm going, and I've already decided my fate."

"Which is?"

"As much life as I can steal from the death that's creeping up on me," Marissa answered, "but real life, not life-support." She turned again.

She reached for the door when she heard her father say, "I'll take you. We can talk to Dr Gottfried while we're there. Do you think your Headmaster will be there to comfort her?"

"Thank you," Marissa said, looking him in the eye.

"I think it's a mistake, Marissa," he told her bluntly, "but it's your life and your mistake to make."

* * *

KatyMulvaney12-29-2004  
**Posted:12152009**


End file.
